


Within Us

by callandra



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Demon Hannibal, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Poor Will Graham, because graphic is just not my thing, neither is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2467541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callandra/pseuds/callandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the stories Among Us, and Demon Seed.  The lovely Macandlacy graciously gave me permission to take her story for a spin, because I really wanted to hear Hannibal's side.  Hannibal's a demon who's decided that Will's mixed heritage makes him the perfect candidate for a mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MacandLacy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacandLacy/gifts), [Nightmare_Child](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmare_Child/gifts).



Hannibal was interrupted mid-sentence at the drop of a fork. He looked over at Will, wondering what could have caused the profiler’s loss of composure. The discussion was about art, after all, not murder. The new gallery they’d just visited had an impressive collection of Degas, a painter Hannibal had learned to appreciate during his own lifetime.  He did so enjoy discussing art with Will. The younger man was a blank slate when it came to art; no impressions and opinions already formed meant that there could be actual discussion over pieces, and artists, rather than debates over which opinion was correct.

He watched Will’s eyes dart from his dinner plate to his host, then back again. Those eyes that intentionally avoided contact were now sharp and clear as they processed things unseen. Their owner did not move, but Hannibal could tell the moment the man was no longer present with him.

Ah. Dear Will had figured it out. How delightful.

“How did you see it, Will?”

There was no need for prevarication between them any longer. It would be an insult to the other’s intelligence to pretend that he was ignorant of what was happening. He watched, curious, as Will took himself back in time, placing himself into the actions of another. What a pity that he could not see for himself the things that Will saw, and experience what Will experienced. It would be fascinating to see himself in such a way.

“I kill for pleasure, and because it is simply my nature,” Will finally answered him softly, voice steady despite its lack of volume. The profiler’s eyes remained unsteady, still caught in their visions, “There are reasons for it, rules; it is not by chance or whim. I have always been this way, and always will be. Those I hunt deserve it, to my thinking. Nothing is random."

Hannibal saw the moment awareness of the present returned to Will. The younger man blinked as if to anchor himself to the surroundings he could now see.

“The art,” Hannibal finally received his answer, “The Wound Man.”  

He made a mental note to remove that particular sketch from his office tomorrow. Will was not the first to realize the truth from that drawing, and Miriam Lass had not possessed his same gifts. She’d been completely human, no hint of Other in her veins. Will shuddered, drawing all of Hannibal’s attention back to him. He took no offense to the action, as Will was allowed his personal preferences.

“I should have seen it sooner.”

“I took great precautions that you would not realize prematurely, Will,” Hannibal spoke to reassure him. He would not sit by and allow Will to berate himself for not seeing what had been actively concealed from him.

“I left only a few hints, to ease you into the knowledge,” such great pains had been taken to ensure that Will did not discover everything before he was ready. Hannibal had waited far too long for this; he would not jeopardize it by acting prematurely. Some day he knew Will would appreciate his efforts, but for now he had to keep them hidden, “I left only a few hints, to ease you into the knowledge. But you surpassed my expectations and saw the truth far sooner than I ever expected.”

Hannibal waited patiently for the smell of fear to thin, and for Will to compose himself. He was proud of the younger man for not attempting to flee, knowing that flight was impossible. Will was terrified, and Hannibal could understand why, but he was still seated at the table, and had not completely panicked. His composure was admirable. It took several minutes for Will’s breathing to even out and for him to look up at his host, but he finally did.

“And now you will kill and eat me.”

“Absolutely not. You are correct in most things, Will, but in this you are very wrong indeed.”

Will was entirely ignorant of himself, or the plans that Hannibal had made for them, so he could be forgiven for such an accusation. He could not be blamed for that which he didn’t understand, so Hannibal took no offense to the logical supposition. Had he been anyone else, Will would have been entirely correct. Not even Alana Bloom would be allowed to leave alive if she was in Will’s position at this moment, and Hannibal had a genuine regard for her.

"Just kill me then," Will said. "I guess it is rude to eat colleagues, or those who have not done great offense."

“Wrong again,” Hannibal smiled, amused. Even in his terror the teacher was showing only bravery and manners. The Ripper respected that.

“Then….what?”

“I don’t supposed I can interest you in dessert?” Hannibal tried to change the subject. His Will had already had enough for one night. Now was not the time to divulge all of his plans. And he had a lovely trifle just waiting to be served, the berries at the peak of their freshness when he purchased them that morning.

He was immediately in motion when he saw the profiler blanch, all blood draining from his face. In less than ten seconds Will was vomiting all of his dinner into the toilet in the guest bath. Hannibal held his head and shoulders, supporting the younger man as he emptied the contents of his stomach. It wasn’t Will’s fault; the news was a lot to digest.   Hannibal winced in sympathy as Will finally jerked away from him and sank down, exhausted and sore.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Will flinched at the offer and curled up, managing to make himself seem even smaller. Hannibal bit back a sigh. This was not what he’d intended for the evening, and now Will was afraid and uncomfortable.

“Just….do whatever…..it is you’re going to do. Now. Please.”

So polite, even now. Hannibal’s manners had certainly rubbed off on the young profiler. He couldn’t hold back the sigh this time as the younger man waited for what he expected to be his end.

“What I am going to do, Will, is get you a fresh bottle of spring water to clean your mouth. And a toothbrush."

He suited actions to words, fetching the promised items and setting them on the sink, ignoring Will’s flinch. The profiler’s responses were natural to the perceived threat, but his Will would soon learn he had nothing to fear.

"When you are ready, come out, Will, and we shall talk. I promise that nothing bad is going to happen tonight. You will go home to your dogs, and all will be well. I merely ask for some of your time before you leave."

He paused at the doorway, setting a hand on Will’s shoulder. It wasn’t what he wished; having to compel Will into anything, but he knew for certain that if he did not, Will’s first phone call after leaving the house would be to Jack Crawford, and he would end up in prison, or Crawford would be dead. Neither scenario boded well for what he had in mind.

“"You will tell no one, Will, in any way, what you have learned. And when you are ready, you will come back to me."

He left the young man to his own devices as he proceeded to clear away the dishes and clean the dining room table and kitchen. It was clear that dessert was a lost cause, but at least he could save the fruit for the next morning. He hated wasting anything. His thoughts drifted to Will as he cleaned, and what the other was thinking. Fortunately there was nothing with which Will could harm himself or use as a weapon in the guest bath, and there were no other exits. Will would have to come out and face him eventually.

It took less time than he expected for Will to emerge, shaky but determined, from the room.

“Would you like a whiskey?”

The alcohol would serve to help calm the profiler as well as remove the aftertaste from his mouth. Hannibal reached for a glass until he heard Will decline. Also declined was the offer to sit in the study; Will preferred to stand and face his demons. Not one to forego his own indulgences, Hannibal poured himself a brandy as he waited for Will to speak.

"What are you going to do?" Will asked. Left unspoken was the addition "to me". Hannibal smiled indulgently.

"I already told you what will happen, Will. You are free to leave anytime you wish, but you will tell no one what you have learned. And when you are ready, you will return to me and we will take the next steps."

"Next steps?" Will's voice was almost shrill. "What steps can there be? You don't leave witnesses. There are no loose ends."

"You are not a loose end, my dear Will," Hannibal said, pausing to take a sip of his drink. He could still smell Will’s fear, which only enhanced the flavor and aroma of the spirit. "You have no need to try and understand everything tonight. It will come in time."

"Time?" Will started pacing, and Hannibal took it as a good sign that he was finally loosening enough to move about, even if he still kept a careful distance. That distance would soon be gone, as Will would find out. "You are giving me time?"

Hannibal sighed, knowing that all of Will's doubts and fears were of his own making. "Yes, Will, time. You deserve it."

"You are going to let me leave....alive."

"I am indeed."

He couldn’t fault Will’s disbelief, but it was difficult not to feel insulted at it. His actions tonight should have proved that he had no intention of harming the younger man.

"Why?" The tone was challenging.

Hannibal smiled slightly. "I have already told you that you will not tell anyone what you have learned. And when you are ready to listen and learn, you will come back to me."

"You will kill whoever I tell, won't you. Alana? Jack? My students?" He watched as Will swallowed hard. "My dogs?"

"I would never harm Alana unless she forced the issue; she is a friend. It would indeed be impolite. You will not tell Jack or your students. And as for your dogs," Hannibal sighed. "I promise that I will not harm them, Will. They have served you loyally, so as much as I find the hair and licking and drool distasteful, I cannot find fault with their devotion and service to you. I only demand that when they come here, they will be confined to the yard or garage." He stopped to consider Will’s attachment to the animals for a moment. Absolute banishment to the yard would probably motivate Will to rebellion, not to mention what the animals themselves might do. "And perhaps certain parts of the house, but only on special occasions."

"When they come here?"

"I think we have covered more than enough tonight, Will."

Hannibal finished his brandy, appreciating the rich taste. He didn’t care for the confusion and fear on his Will’s face. It was time to end the discussion for the evening, and allow Will time for everything to process. Adding anything else on top of what the profiler had uncovered would only overwhelm him.

"Go to your home, rest, and be with your dogs. When you are ready for more, you will return to me."

Will hesitated, clearly not knowing what to do. Then he carefully backed out of the room, his gaze never leaving Hannibal's until he slammed the door shut and raced out of the house. The psychiatrist just smiled as he heard the sounds of Will starting his car and then driving as fast as possible away from the block. It would take some time, which was only to be expected, but Will would return to him, and they would be able to proceed.

His Will would learn that he had nowhere to run.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal tried not to sigh when yet again his 7:30 appointment did not show up. The woman whose appointments had replaced the deceased Franklin was far less neurotic than her predecessor, and was in fact one of the few Hannibal treated that he was confident could truly be “cured” by therapy. Another referral from Alana Bloom, the young woman had suffered a great trauma from a lover’s former fiancée that left her most uncomfortable around other women. Trauma was not Hannibal’s specialty, but he could not refuse Alana’s request when the young woman refused to deal with her.

Today, unfortunately, had been a very bad day for her, and it had set his own mood on edge to deal with her. He had gotten through the hour entertaining the hope that Will would finally keep their appointment, and that hope was dashed when the profiler was not in the waiting room. Nor did Will call to cancel, or return to continue their discussion. It had been nearly five weeks since the night the young man discovered the truth, and still he stayed away.

Hannibal hadn’t been concerned when Will missed his first appointment, or stopped asking him to help with crime scenes. He understood how big an adjustment it would be for Will, to accept that his friend was the Chesapeake Ripper. He was curious how Will was handling being unable to confide that knowledge in anyone. It must be driving the profiler mad, to not be able to speak of what he knew.

He was willing to allow Will time to acclimate himself to the situation, but five weeks wasn’t adjustment, it was just plain avoidance. That, Hannibal could not stand for. Will should have come to him long before now. The profiler’s innate curiosity should have been enough to send him back to Hannibal after that first week.

No matter. If Will wished to ignore him, he would just have to do something to catch the profiler’s attention. He still had much for Will to learn, and in order to do that, they must speak. It had been awhile since he’d been hunting as the Ripper, and his stock was diminishing. That couldn’t be allowed; he must have the proper food for Will.   He knew that so many of the younger man’s problems: the nightmares, the insomnia, and the overall fading health of the teacher had disappeared since Will started dining at his table.

His decision made, Hannibal pulled out his rolodex and started skimming through the business cards it contained. Ah. Perfect. The rude wine merchant who’d insulted him in attempting to pass off an inferior wine was only blocks away from Mr. Lim’s shop. He had clothes to pick up tomorrow, to begin stocking Will’s side of the closet, and he could do his research while he was there. He doubted very much that it would be difficult to arrange the man’s death.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It felt good to stalk, and hunt. It was a relief to shed his human veil for a night and embrace his true, natural form. It had been far too easy to tamper with the man’s car, and follow him at the appropriate distance until the vehicle stopped running. There was no challenge in this prey, but there was great satisfaction in seeing that the man would do a much better job serving as dinner for his intended at some future point. He would be sure to serve this one in a wine sauce. For now, though, he had some staging to do. This one wouldn’t simply be a disappearance. No, this one was his reminder to Will that their business wasn’t finished.

The staging finished, he returned to his home. After preparing and storing the meat, he proceeded to the master bedroom, and started hanging his newest acquisitions in what would be Will’s half of the closet. Mr. Lim had done his usual excellent work, and Hannibal smiled in satisfaction at the sight of the garments. Planning for Will was a great pleasure, and the idea of seeing the profiler out of that dreadful flannel, and dressed to his own impeccable standards only heightened his anticipation for when Will would finally join him. All he had to do now was wait for Will to come to him. The body should be found by morning, so he fully expected Will to arrive for dinner tomorrow night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hannibal admired Will’s spirit, but there was such a thing as too stubborn. Two more weeks had passed with no appearance of the teacher. The Chesapeake Ripper struck a second time to no avail. Hannibal had been patient, but enough was enough. This third kill was a clear message: the killing would escalate until Will finally stopped behaving like a petulant child and came to see him. Crawford would find it a puzzle, but Will would understand.

“Good evening Will,” Hannibal smiled at the presence of the profiler at his door, “please, do come in out of the cold.”

He stepped back to allow his guest entry, giving him space and the illusion of control, and frowned minutely as he took in Will’s appearance. The younger man was tired, and he looked thin. These last weeks had not been kind to him. Hannibal would have to rectify that.

“Shall we go to the study? A nice fire is going now, and I have some wine I think you will enjoy.”

Hannibal wished to set a relaxing tone for this evening. Will must be at ease with him, and his surroundings, if they were to make any progress. There was still much that Will had to learn, and it wouldn’t aid anyone if he was hostile the entire evening.

He ignored the softly muttered “no, thank you” as he proceeded to his study, and poured two small glasses of wine. He was sure that Will would need the drink before their discussion was over. Once he placed a glass by Will’s chair, he took a seat in his own and waited for Will to begin. It was plain that the profiler had much to say.

“What did you do? I can’t say what I know to anyone….. not even my dogs.”

Oh dear. He’d forgotten that Will would likely confide in his pack, and his command would have prevented that. It wasn’t surprising that Will was livid about the interference with his animals. He was as protective of them as they were of him. It hadn’t been his intention to isolate Will from his pack in that manner, only to prevent him from telling any people of his activities as the Chesapeake Ripper.

“Ah. I forgot that you would try to confide in your dogs. I apologize; my command was rather all-encompassing, even to animals.”

Perhaps he had let himself get carried away.

“What command?”

Hannibal took in the profiler’s narrowed eyes and pacing, ignoring the offered chair and keeping to the open study door. Will was agitated, and rightly so, and Hannibal could see the urge to flee in the younger man’s posture. He wouldn’t be surprised if Will actually pulled his weapon. In light of that fact, Hannibal decided to treat this discussion as an intellectual exercise. Will’s frame of mind would take passion as threat, and the doctor’s goal was to put him at ease. Will would have to see everything, and it would be easier to make him do so if he was calmer.

“What do you think it could be?” He posed the question as he would in one of their sessions.

"It can’t be hypnosis; it doesn't work on me, and besides, I don't think any subconscious command could be so strong. It hasn't been long enough for you to do some damn sort of brainwashing or give me any Stockholm syndrome. Drugs would have worn off by now, and again, the command couldn't be that strong."

"All very astute and accurate," Hannibal nodded in approval as he took a sip of his wine.

"And I'm damn sure I would have noticed if an alien or secret government conspiracy group put a chip in my head or something."

Hannibal snorted in amusement. That last comment wasn’t worthy of reply, but it was most entertaining to watch as Will ruled out every logical explanation there could be for his ability. Soon the profiler would run out of possibilities, and he would have no option but to look deeply.

“So what is it?”

“Will.” Hannibal set the wine glass aside and fixed his eye on the profiler as he leaned back in his chair.

“You know there is only one way to understand. Look at me, and see.”

“Oh, Hell no.”

Hannibal remained seated to appear as nonthreatening as possible as Will started to back away, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. He wanted, _needed_ , the empath to see him as he truly was. Only then could Will begin to understand himself.  

“Not going to happen.”

“Will,” he kept his voice stern so that he didn’t start begging. It wouldn’t do to let Will know how badly he wanted this; it would only frighten the younger man further.

“You want to know; you need to know. At the risk of making it sound too grandiose, your empathy and seeing are the only way you can learn this. You will not believe it from me, which I know is only fair."

He sighed when Will started for the door, shaking his head.

"Will, take out your gun if it will make you feel better. For my part, I will remain seated, I will not harm you. But you need to see the truth."

"But the truth won't set me free, will it?" Will's voice was just above a whisper, but Hannibal heard.

"You may be surprised," Hannibal murmured. The truth could set them both free, once Will finally saw it. He made a point of keeping his hands folded in his lap as Will took off his glasses and really _looked_ at him. He counted it a small victory that though Will’s hand hovered momentarily near his weapon, he didn’t draw it.

“Focus Will. Start with the most recent,” he guided the younger man when he saw just how lost in visions Will was becoming. Will saw so very much, and in his case there was so very much to see. Another small victory; Will let himself be guided, and didn’t fight his suggestions.

"You are the Ripper. There are other names for you as well, and some things that were never given a name. So many bodies....for so long...so long..." Will's voice trailed off and he shook his head a little. "My God, how old are you?" he breathed.

Hannibal simply smiled at that, shrugging his shoulders. Will wouldn’t believe him if he told the truth, at least not yet. He simply waited for the other to continue. There was more that Will must see. He must understand everything in order for any of this to pan out as it should. For a moment he thought the profiler might become sick as he continued to look. Fortunately that moment passed as Will continued.

"You have some sort of...power, or control. You can.... _compel_....people to do or not to do what you want. It's how you prevented me from being able to tell anyone. It's how you so easily take your victims."

“Partially,” Hannibal was willing to give some credit where it was due. His ability to command did make for easier hunting if he was simply pressed for time, or had other concerns, but he very rarely needed to employ it. He preferred the challenge of a real hunt, with his chosen prey aware their end was coming.

“You’re not human. What are you,” Will whispered, and Hannibal inclined his head. At last they were coming to it.

"A demon. To some, one of the old gods. I do indeed have many names, but here and now, I am Hannibal Lecter."

He could see the shock, and the desperate desire for disbelief that crossed Will’s face at that pronouncement. He prepared to move when it looked as though the profiler would start hyperventilating.

“That’s…..impossible.”

"What is, dear Will? That demons are among us? You already well that know that monsters walk among us on Earth. If you accept the belief in God and angels, you must accept the belief in the reverse."

"Demons among us," Will murmured.

"Indeed."

Hannibal rose when Will turned his back on him. He feared for the younger man, as Will appeared to be on the verge of losing consciousness. He ignored the instant struggles to get free when he pulled Will back against him, steadying him. He didn’t know what vision Will was still trapped in, but he would not allow him injure himself.

"Hush, Will, hush. Do not be afraid. I am not going to hurt you. Please, try to calm yourself. I just want you to sit down, alright?"

He guided Will back into the chair that had become “his” and gently pushed him into it, despite the other’s efforts to get away. He left Will’s side only long enough to fetch a glass of water from the sideboard and pressed it into Will’s hand, pretending not to notice Will’s flinch at his touch.

"Just a few small sips of water," Hannibal told him. "Concentrate on your breathing, Will, and come back to me. There is nothing to be afraid of."

When he saw that Will was obeying, even only reflexively, he resumed his seat. Hovering over Will when the profiler came back to himself would not aid their progress. He waited several minutes until he saw the other man’s eyes open.

"You are William Graham," Lecter said, his voice as soothing and guiding as it was in one of their sessions. "You are in my home in Baltimore, you are safe."

"And you are a demon," Will finished.

“Indeed.”

When Will challenged him to prove his claim, Hannibal raised an eyebrow, his expression torn between amused and offended. "I do not perform parlor tricks," he huffed in indignation. His eyes flickered. "And neither do you."

If Will wished to perform parlor tricks, he would have gone to work for a psychic hotline. Hannibal would not lower himself to such a level any more than Will would. His lips twitched at the thought of Will making a living on a 1-800-Psychic line.

“I think, my dear Will, that it is time you saw yourself.”

“I see myself plenty.”

"I do not mean your simple reflection. I mean, to _see_ yourself. For what you are, my Will."

"I don't understand," Will Whispered. Hannibal could hear the underlying tension in the younger man’s protest. Will was intelligent, he would have some idea of what Hannibal was hinting, and he would be desperate to be wrong. Hannibal could sympathize with having everything he knew pulled out from under him, but he would no longer let Will live in denial. Too much was at stake to allow him to continue believing he was human.

"Demons among us, Will," he repeated, his voice a murmur. "And, _within_ us. Specifically, within you."

“NO,” Will choked out in denial, and Hannibal grabbed his wrist to keep him from trying to flee.

"There is demon blood in you, Will. It is where your talent comes from. Surely you understand that a mere human could not have such power. Men have jokingly called you a witch before, and you have never been able to deny it completely. You are different, Will, and not because of any mental disorder or such nonsense. You are different because you yourself are not fully human."

He brought Will’s wrist to his nose and inhaled, keeping his gaze locked with the empath’s.

"There are not one but two distinct and separate strands of other folk within you. One is fairly recent...a grandparent, I suspect. The other is more removed, but was a very powerful being indeed. This unique combination has resulted in your talent of empathy and insights that your mind can make. No mere human could do what you do, Will, and you have always known so, although of course you have never been able to speak of it."

“No,” Will shook his head vehemently in denial, but unable to break the gaze. Hannibal smiled. His Will was so determined to disbelieve what he knew in his gut to be true, even though he knew the empath saw everything clearly. So stubborn.

"Perhaps an example, one close to your heart, will help. Your dogs, Will. Why do you think you have so many stray dogs, and such an understanding with them? They are drawn to you, to serve you."

Will blinked, trying to think, trying to see. "So they are....what? My familiars?"

"In a manner, yes," Hannibal agreed. "They have protected you in the past, and assist you in any manner they can. Companionship is essential to an empath, as you well know. You chose dogs as your best option, instinctively knowing that humans could not help you, and the animals responded to your need. They have been faithful and devoted to you, which I appreciate. And it is why I would never try to separate you from them."

He could not pretend that the idea of so many animals on his property was at all appealing, but he wouldn’t ask Will to leave them behind. They had been precisely what Will needed, and Hannibal would always appreciate the fact that they kept Will grounded and sane until he found him. If Will had not had the influence of their companionship, their meeting might have been very different indeed. He would make the concession of allowing the dogs residence in his yard for that fact. He didn’t expect that he would not have to sacrifice something to achieve what he intended to gain.

"Why would I be separated from them?"

Hannibal smiled, one hand now gently brushing Will's curls in a soothing manner. "You will not be separated from them, Will, I assure you."

"You didn't answer my question." If Hannibal had to name the emotion coloring the younger man’s tone, he would call it annoyance, and suspicion. "You said something about them living in the....the yard? When they came here?"

"Yes, Will. When they, and you, of course, come to live here. I would never make you leave them behind. They will stay with you, to continue to serve and comfort you."

"Me....live here?" Will's voice was beginning to sound shrill with shock and stress. "I am NOT--"

"In time, you will live here, Will,” he cut the younger man off. There was no point in an argument over something that would not be changed. “You will be with me. That is not open for discussion."

"The H-Hell..." Will stuttered, trying to escape Hannibal’s grip on his hand. Hannibal made certain his grip was not crushing, but did not let Will go. His tone was practiced and soothing as he shushed the empath, urging him into compliance before he could hurt himself.

"Sleep, my dear. You have had many shocks tonight. I will take you home while you sleep, and tomorrow you will awake in your own bed with your dogs. I will give you some time again to adjust to these new revelations before we continue."

Will struggled, his mind refusing to quiet, and ultimately, slipped over into rest. Hannibal took a moment to watch the sleeping man. It was too tempting to put Will in his bed, and allow the younger man to rest saturated in his scent, but he would not be made a liar. He would take Will to his own bed, so that he would wake with the dogs he was so worried about. If he spent some time in the house to make sure that his scent marked everything, and that his presence was inescapable, well, that was no one’s business but his own. 


	3. Chapter 3

Will was trying to avoid him, again. Three days after his unannounced arrival at Hannibal’s house, the empath was doing a fine job of vanishing. Hannibal dealt with his frustration over the younger man’s denial by hunting. His intended was doing great harm to himself by hiding, and there was nothing Hannibal could do about it until Will presented himself again.

He was well aware that Will would need time to process the news that he was not entirely human. It would be a shock for anyone who’d never given thought to the possibility of demons among them to find out that they were one. Hannibal was a psychiatrist, and a well-respected one. He knew the effects such a discovery would have on a person, and that no one could be expected to simply absorb such knowledge as irrefutable fact. He had counseled many people who’d had their known existence ripped from them, as they struggled to adapt to a new situation. He knew that he would have to do the same with Will.

His frustration rose from the fact that Will was causing himself unnecessary suffering, and physical damage he could only guess at. The younger being had been starving himself before Hannibal finally found him, barely surviving on food that not even full humans would find adequate to remain healthy. That starvation and self-imposed isolation had been the cause of the anxiety and nightmares Will had suffered from all his life. Hannibal had managed to cure most of that by supplying him with the food his kind required, and the company of another non-Human, even if Will hadn’t been aware of it. Will’s attempt to hide threatened to undo a great deal of Hannibal’s work. He would bet money that the empath was having trouble sleeping again, and had been since his first discovery of Hannibal’s activities.

Will would also be worried about himself. Now that he knew he was other than fully human, his mind would be filled with the images of demons that humans accepted as fact, and believing that he was capable of becoming an absolute monster. He was already afraid of his own thoughts, and his ability to empathize with the worst of humanity; this would terrify him.

Hannibal couldn’t disagree that most demons presented a grotesque picture (his natural form was rather monstrous), but that didn’t mean that they were inherently evil. Not every Other required human flesh to survive. Most creatures that humans classified as “demon” lived perfectly normal lives without killing anything more than insects, their talents lying in areas other than killing.   It was only that small percentage that did that gave all Others a bad reputation. Will needed to know that he would never hurt a person intentionally, that he was still the same gentle creature that had drawn Hannibal’s attention in the first place. He needed to know that desperately, but Hannibal couldn’t reassure him of that until he saw him.

His invitation to Will came after his second hunting trip, but decided he would spare Will’s sensibilities for this meal. The younger man had enough to absorb without asking him to knowingly eat human meat so soon. He would ease Will into accepting his nature gradually. For this meal, he would use actual chicken in his braised rosemary chicken.

He had just checked the chicken in the oven when the doorbell rang. Will was on time as always. Hannibal smiled as he ushered his guest inside.

“Will, good evening. Dinner will be ready shortly. Can I interest you in a glass of wine?”

Will’s refusal was barely whispered, and Hannibal could smell the fear emanating from him. That wouldn’t do.

“Then please sit,” he steered Will towards the study. “You have not been sleeping or eating, have you?”

“Bit difficult lately,” the younger being muttered. Hannibal sighed. He’d expected that Will would neglect his body as he attempted to accept everything that had been thrown at him, but knowing it didn’t alter his disappointment. He knew that all of Will’s fears were unfounded, and of his own making, but he also knew that Will wouldn’t believe that yet.

"Then we shall talk for a time before the meal. I know you have questions, and some answers may help you."

He made sure that Will was comfortable in his chair in the study before handing him a bottle of water and taking his seat. He waited for Will to gather his thoughts and speak. Will needed to be in control of this discussion; his questions would direct what Hannibal would tell him.

“What am I?”

Ah. He had anticipated that question, knowing it would be Will’s biggest concern. It pleased him knowing that in this area at least he could alleviate Will’s worries.

Hannibal smiled slightly. "A very unique being indeed. As I said, your heritage has two strands of other folk, plus Human, making you a nearly unheard of combination, and this has resulted in your gift." The maroon eyes closed for a moment as he scented the smaller man. "Your non-Human ancestry is undoubtedly magical, and quite old. It would be intriguing to know more."

Will swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Demons?" he asked.

Hannibal tilted his head in consideration. "There are many kinds of other folk, Will, and each society has given them names too numerous to count. Elves, sprites, fairies, goblins, giants, wendigo, witches, little folk. I believe one of your ancestors could be classified as a demon, although you should keep in mind that the word _demon_ does not necessarily always mean great evil." The psychiatrist smiled. "Truly, you should not worry too much over it, Will. You are what you appear to be...a kind, gentle being. There is no hidden monster within you."

"When I "saw" my first crime scene, an agent muttered that they used to burn people like me at the stake. I guess he was more correct than he knew."

"You have a powerful gift, Will," Hannibal countered calmly, "and you chose to use it for good; to catch those who do evil. Your conscience should be clear. You would never willingly hurt anyone. You also have your gift and passion for teaching, and this is commendable. No one should fear anything from you."

Will nodded, taking a sip of the water. "But you are different," he pointed out softly.

Hannibal nodded. "I am indeed, Will. I am completely demon, no human ancestry at all."

It was important that Will understand this distinction. Hannibal would keep the darker parts of his nature from the younger man as much as he could, knowing that Will would have difficulty accepting it, but he would not lie to the profiler. He might appear human, to blend in, but he was not human, and could not be held to human standards.

Pale blue eyes flickered over Hannibal's face for a moment before looking away again. "You are very old," Will observed.

The doctor chuckled a little. "It is generally rude to ask one's age, Will," he chided. "But yes, I am old, even by my kind's reckoning."

It was fascinating to watch the younger man mentally prepare himself for something. "What do you want?" Will asked simply.

There was a soft beep, and Hannibal glanced at his watch. "Right now, I want us to enjoy our meal, and we can talk more over dinner."

"I am not eating meat," Will stammered.

Hannibal brushed the words aside. "Don't be silly, Will. Of course you are going to."

"I am going to become a vegetarian," Will countered, and Hannibal could hear his heart pounding. "It's something I've wanted to do for a very long time. Be a vegetarian."

Hannibal actually winced. His intended had an appalling habit of disregarding the needs of his body, and he would have to break him of that. It was an insult to all decency.

"There is no need for foul language, Will."

"What...vegetarian?"

"Your body needs proper nutrition," Lecter countered. He studied the teacher. "Have you not noticed that your headaches, sleepwalking and other ills have faded since you have been eating at my table? You were lacking adequate healthy fare for even a human, not to mention what your special heritage craved."

"Settle your mind and body, Will,” Hannibal urged when it looked as if the younger man might make a dash for the restroom.

“I have prepared a simple meal, free of anything I have hunted, I assure you. The meat course is chicken, and while it is something you have greatly enjoyed in the past, I will not take offense tonight if you skip it. Now, come."

Hannibal was careful to say nothing when Will did in fact pass over the chicken, and dinner passed peacefully enough. The empath ate the vegetables readily enough, and Hannibal had the feeling Will had just eaten more in that meal than he had in days. He answered the younger man’s questions about whether he’d ever chased demons, being certain to point out that humans were just as capable of being monsters, and the atmosphere was decidedly non-hostile as he brought out dessert.

The evening started to take a turn for the worse when they retired to the study with wine.   Will had worked out Hannibal’s interest, but insisted that nothing would come of it. He didn’t wish to recognize all the good that had already come from their association, or what a deepening of their relationship could lead to. He instantly rejected the idea of living with Hannibal, of becoming his mate. Hannibal tried not to take it personally, when Will flatly turned him down.

"I know what is best for you, Will." The doctor leaned forward. "Your headaches and night terrors have faded not due just to proper nutrition but also due to my care. You are healthier than you have been since you were a child. Many of your insecurities - caused by your unknown need to hide your true persona - have faded. You are regarded now as more brilliant than strange by your colleagues. They have begun to appreciate the true talent you possess."

For the first time, others were recognizing Will’s true worth. Even Alana had commented that Will seemed much improved since beginning sessions with Hannibal, and he knew that the profiler was no longer regarded as such a loose cannon. His colleagues now thought of him as a true asset to the FBI. Society now knew him as a “friend” of Hannibal Lecter, which opened doors that would have previously remained closed to the profiler, and by extension the FBI. Will had truly moved forward at Hannibal’s side. He would become so much more by accepting his place in the doctor’s life.

Will panicked at the announcement that they would have a child together. Hannibal should have foreseen this response, he was delivering but the latest in a line of enormous shocks, but he’d chosen to push it to the back of his mind and hope for better. His reassurances to Will that he wouldn’t be harmed in any way fell on deaf ears, Will so hopelessly stubborn.

“You would be unable to sire a child with a human woman. This is your only chance to have a family, Will, which I know you’ve wished for in the privacy of your mind. Together, our child will be perfect.”

Will shook his head. "No," he repeated stubbornly. "I am not going to....let you do that. I am not going to become your partner and I'm sure as Hell not going to..." he waved his hand vaguely, not able to say the words.

"Be reasonable, Will. This is for your benefit as well as mine."

Hannibal had long desired company, but Will _needed_ companionship. He needed the grounding stability of a family. The dogs had been a viable substitute, but Others were not meant to be so alone. It was not their way to be so completely isolated. Their joining would give the younger man everything he’d desired but had given up on achieving. He had only to allow himself to accept it. Hannibal allowed Will to pull free from his grasp. He would not force the issue tonight; Will deserved to be given time to adjust.

"Forgive me if I fail to see it that way," Will hissed at him.

"You will, in time," Hannibal promised.

"By compelling me? Yeah, 'cause that's going to be the only fucking way."

Hannibal sighed. 'I will not compel you, Will. I do not desire a shell or mindless partner. But it will happen. I will give you time to adjust."

Will saw a flash. Hannibal meant what he said, and he would not take no for an answer.

"Time before you rape me?" Will's voice was sharp.

Red eyes flickered. He hoped it would not come to that. He was a patient man; he could give Will all the time he needed to accept the inevitable. There should be no reason it would come to rape, but he couldn’t predict the future. While he was confident that he could eventually persuade the younger man, he knew that eventually the issue would be forced regardless of Will’s agreement. He would not allow the other’s fear to deprive them of what they both wished for and deserved.

"If necessary, yes," Hannibal said quietly.

He knew a moment of amusement when Will smashed his wine glasses, thinking the younger man meant to attack him. That quickly turned to horror when he realized that Will meant to use the makeshift weapon on himself. The empath truly meant to try to end his own life rather than accept the good that would come from what Hannibal was engineering. Blood was already running from a scratch near the neck, and the shards digging into his hands.

"William!" Hannibal's voice was sharp, putting all of his power behind Will’s full name. "Drop your hands immediately." His voice sounded throughout the room, echoing off the paneled walls. He couldn’t approach the younger man while he still had the broken crystal in his hands, and he was desperate to prevent Will from doing worse harm to himself. He waited, watching the empath struggle against the command he’d been given even as his hands lowered unwillingly. He wouldn’t be able to raise them again. As soon as there was no more danger of Will stabbing himself, Hannibal was on him, gripping his wrists tightly until he was forced to drop the shattered crystal and then pulling him to his body. He held the younger man to his chest as he struggled to get free, waiting until Will tired himself out. This was not what he’d wanted.

"Will," a whisper and a soft kiss was placed by an ear. "I don't know whether to be proud of your determination, or dismayed at such a desperate action." There was a long sigh. "Perhaps a bit of both, yes?"

"Fuck off," Will whispered back, his eyes closed.

Hannibal ignored the profanity as he swung the too thin body into his arms, bridal style, and carried Will up the stairs. The younger man’s struggles were feeble, at best, but Hannibal heard his panicked breathing when the master bedroom. Did Will really think that he would force him tonight? Even if he that had been his original intention (which it wasn’t, if only Will would believe it), the just past incident would have put an end to those plans. He ignored the bedroom, heading straight for the master bath, and sat Will in a chair before moving it in front of the sink. Those hands needed tending. He was as gentle as he could be guiding Will’s hands under the running water, but he knew it had to be painful. A careful inspection determined that the cuts weren’t deep enough to need stitches, thankfully, but he would have to remove the glass that was embedded in the wounds before he could bandage them.

Will sat unmoving as he retrieved his first aid kit, even as he removed the tiny shards of glass. Hannibal wondered where the empath had gone in his mind. When he was satisfied that all the slivers were removed, he filled the sink with water and disinfectant and carefully lowered Will’s hands into the solution. The scratch on his throat was quite superficial, requiring nothing more than a thin layer of antibiotic ointment and small bandages. He was quiet as he carefully dried Will’s injured hands, the empath making no move to do so, applied ointment and wrapped them in heavy gauze. Will still didn’t move, and Hannibal sighed before kneeling in front of him. He had not wanted to resort to this.

“Will, look at me.”

There was a command in his order despite its soft tone that Will was powerless to ignore, especially in this peculiar state.

. "You will never harm yourself again, do you understand? You will do nothing that could bring yourself any harm. You will also eat what I prepare for you from now on."

Will shrugged, nearly without emotion. "Any other _orders_?" He knew he had been compelled, and it was unbreakable.

"Do I need to give more?"

Will looked down, not able to meet that dark gaze. "Not at the moment, no." He had no more fight in him for right now, and they both knew it.

“Then let us try to get through the night, shall we?”

He started running water into the deep bath tub, and added foaming soap. The lavender scent should be soothing, and would hopefully relax the younger man into sleep.   There wasn’t a chance he would let Will drive home after this, even if he insisted he was capable of it.

"My dogs!" Hannibal glanced up at that, slightly confused, in time to watch Will swallow hard.

"I'll stay, I'll do....what you want. But my dogs..."

"Ah," Of course he would be worried about his animals. Hannibal was certain Will hadn’t expected that leaving them overnight would even be a possibility when he came for dinner. He would take care of that, easily. Hannibal stood up, and began to ease the jacket off Will's torso, careful of the bandaged hands.

"While you soak in the tub, I will call on someone to go check on them and make sure they are fed for the night. They will also check on them in the morning."

"They won't have a key --"

"Do not worry. It is someone who has served me well in the past, and is genuinely fond of dogs. You will see your pack again tomorrow, Will, I promise. And all that will happen tonight is that you get some proper rest."

He stripped Will clinically, not wishing to embarrass his intended further, and carefully assisted him into the tub. When the water reached a sufficient level, he turned off the faucet and laid thick towels on the edges of the tub so that Will could keep his hands protected, then retreated downstairs to the study. He had no worries about leaving Will alone; with his earlier command, he would be unable to attempt to drown himself or do himself some other injury.

After calling in Celine to check on Will’s pack, he busied himself with cleaning the mess left from Will’s outburst. The broken glass was swept up and a vacuum run to make sure that no shard was missed, and he used a towel to sop up the wine that had fortunately not begun to dry. He would probably have to bring in a specialty company to get that stain out of the hand-woven carpet, but hopefully it could be done. He would hate to have to replace it. When he smelled blood as well, he brought the towel to his nose and inhaled deeply. His Will; so brave and yet so foolhardy. He would soon learn that there was no escaping his fate, and more importantly he had nothing to fear from it.

Once the study was clean, he grabbed a pitcher from the kitchen before heading back upstairs. His trip through the bedroom this time included brief stop to turn down the bedding and a stop in the closet, where he removed the silk pajamas that he’d specially ordered to match the blue of Will’s eyes. It was time to take care of the younger man, and start spoiling him.

Will’s eyes were closed, and he looked nearly asleep when Hannibal entered the bathroom. It seemed a shame to wake him, but falling asleep in the bathtub simply wouldn’t do.

“Dunk your head; we need to wash your hair.”

It was such a pleasure to be able to run his hands through Will’s hair. He adored those curls that covered the younger man’s head. As a result, he took far longer than strictly necessary to make sure Will’s hair was clean before he helped the empath from the bathtub, dried him, and dressed him in his new pajamas. As soon as Will was dressed, Hannibal guided him back to the bed, and took great care to arrange the pillows to cushion his injured hands before handing him antibiotics and painkillers to prevent any complications from the injuries. He was pleased that Will took them without complaint.

He rushed through his own shower, not lingering under the hot spray as he might have, so that he could return to Will. Will said nothing when he out the lights, but turned on his side when he slipped into the bed. He chose to say nothing…..he was tired, as was Will, and in no mood for another argument at the moment. Instead he moved the pillows to keep Will’s hands safe and settled close behind him, but refrained from actually touching him.

“When?” he heard Will ask dully.

“When you are ready,” he reassured quietly.

“That’s a _never_ then.”

His Will, so stubborn until the end; even when the end was something so positive. He allowed the discussion to continue only for a minute, addressing all the questions the younger being put to him honestly and openly. He would handle the details of letting everyone learn they were together; Will’s reluctance to talk would only add credence to the story when those too curious for their own good asked. He would enjoy witnessing others’ reactions to their news. Beverly Katz especially would be amusing to watch, though he would have to keep an eye out that she didn’t upset Will too badly with her inquisitiveness.

There was little he could say to console Will about the inevitable and necessary confinement to the house, so he urged him on to sleep, adding just enough of a compulsion to ensure the young one slept peacefully through the night. The teacher was in great need of healing rest. As Will drifted off into sleep, still very much angry and resentful, Hannibal watched him.

He’d spent years alone, too many to keep track of anymore, until he first sensed Will. His kind preferred to pair off, just generally not with each other. On the rare occasions when they did mate with one of their own, the pairing did not last overly long. The hunting ground needed to support more than one of his kind drew too much attention, and so they chose to mate with other demons, or humans. Most of his kind would have mated and had a child centuries ago, but Hannibal had no desire for an inferior partner.

He’d been drawn to the presence he felt in the city, enough to revive the Chesapeake Ripper to lead to a meeting. At first he’d found Will interesting, unaware of what ran in his blood and yet using the talents that heritage gave him to counter the work of Others who lacked either a moral compass or the sense to conceal themselves. A bit of a fool for denying the basic needs of his body, such as sleep or what even humans considered proper nutrition, but fascinating all the same.

Beyond that fascination, he grew to genuinely like the young man with such proclivities to care for others despite everything he could see. It didn’t take long for him to realize the he would not find anyone more suited for him than Will Graham, and that he cared deeply for the younger man. He wasn’t actively looking for a mate when he met Will Graham, but how could he turn down one so perfect for him, practically dropped in his lap? Will was intelligent and thoughtful, but no pushover who could not stand on his own. The empath was a counter balance to his own nature, something he’d long recognized he was lacking, and he knew from the man’s treatment of his dogs that he would be a good parent to their children.

He was hopeful that after the birth of their first child Will would consent to have more. He knew that Will had dreamed of a number of children, and he would like at least two, if Will was agreeable. Being pregnant wouldn’t be easy for the empath; while Will liked his solitude, he wouldn’t take easily to confinement for months on end. But the reward of a child would be more than worth it; Hannibal was sure of it. Once Will saw that he would truly come to no harm, that he and their child would be cherished and protected, Hannibal was convinced he could persuade Will to enlarge their family, after a time. It was with that pleasant thought in mind that he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, lacking only being able to hold Will in his arms to make the night perfect.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry about the delay on this chapter. Real life can be a distracting little pain in the butt sometimes.

Hannibal woke long before Will. His empath was still in a deep sleep, and likely to remain so for some time. That suited him perfectly; it gave him time to begin breakfast, and to make some necessary phone calls. He would have liked to remain in bed for awhile longer, simply watching Will sleep, but there were things he needed to accomplish before Will woke and the quiet peace of the morning was gone. A good night’s rest would do wonders for Will’s health, but Hannibal wasn’t deluded enough to believe that it would also do wonders for his attitude.

Hannibal slid from the bed with a gentle kiss to Will’s forehead, making certain not to disturb his injuries. His first patient wasn’t until afternoon, so there was no rush out the door. He had time to enjoy the morning, with his intended under his roof. He indulged in a long, hot, shower, which served to clear away the remaining mental cobwebs left by sleep so that he could focus on those things he needed to do. He would have to prepare the back yard for the arrival of Will’s animals, which meant a great deal of renovation and shopping. He would begin that process tomorrow, as well as finish stocking his freezer. It would be more difficult to hunt when Will began spending significant time with him, and he was determined to see the empath properly fed.

It took only a few minutes to dress in a button down shirt and the pants of the suit he would wear to the office. The waistcoat and jacket would wait until he was ready to leave for work.   He wouldn’t have bothered dressing so soon with nowhere to be if not for his guest. Will would be uncomfortable enough when he woke without adding Hannibal in his pajamas to that awkwardness. Last night had been a terrible shock to Will; Hannibal saw no reason to add to that burden. There would be plenty of time for Will to get used to their new situation.

His first phone call after he was dressed was to Celine, to ensure that Will’s dogs were well. He had full confidence in the young woman who could almost rightly be termed a succubus; her love for canines rivaled Will’s, and she would revel in getting to spend time with so many. The woman could charm animals as easily as she could all males of the human or demon variety. He was amused to hear how put out she sounded at the news that she wouldn’t get to take care of the animals for longer than today. It was tempting to tell her to look after them a while longer, and to keep Will to himself, but he couldn’t do it. Will would need the solitude after today; he would need to spend time away from Hannibal and with his pack to begin adjusting to all he now knew. Hannibal wouldn’t try to take that away from him. This was a marathon, not a sprint to see how quickly he could force Will into his home. No, Celine would simply have to content herself with today, and possibly sometime in the future, should he be able to persuade his intended into a weekend to themselves, far from everyone. What a pleasant thought that was.

He smiled to himself as he made his next call. This call was much more important than the call to Celine. This simple little phone call would set so much of his plans into motion, just by saying a few words but implying so much more.

“Hello Jack. I’m calling about Will.”

Crawford’s concern was touching, and instant, as soon as Will’s name was mentioned.

“Has something happened?”

“I’m afraid Will had a minor accident last night.   He cut himself on some broken glass, after staying up quite late discussing a case. I’m afraid he’s not awake yet, and will miss his morning classes.”

“Will spent the night with you?”

The disbelief in the agent’s tone was almost comical, and Hannibal could practically see the man’s facial expression in his mind. He idly wondered if Crawford was one of those who had placed a wager on their relationship.

“He did. I insisted that he not try to drive at such a late hour after his injuries. I’m afraid that he had quite a bit of trouble sleeping, but he should be able to make it in this afternoon.”

Let the agent make of that what he would.   Hannibal knew the innuendo dripping from his reference to Will’s sleeping difficulties, even if in this case his meaning was entirely innocent. People’ imaginations always leapt to the more sensational conclusions. The news that Will had spent the night with Hannibal would no doubt have circulated through all of Will’s colleagues before the man ever reached the campus.

He deflected Jack’s protests that Will was very much needed for his morning classes by pointing out just how busy they’d kept the profiler, and that he of all people should know what was likely to happen if Will wasn’t given a break. It was not difficult to paint an image of Will too damaged from lack of rest to work, at best, or no longer distinguishing between himself and the killers whose minds he dug into, at worst. Jack became only too eager to give Will the morning off once he thought it would be a necessary step to making sure he didn’t break. There was very little difficulty in getting the agent to agree to Will’s absence this morning without any repercussions. He didn’t even have to attempt to compel the man over the phone, which wouldn’t have been impossible, just difficult.

His phone calls ended, Hannibal turned his attention to readying breakfast. He checked the contents of his refrigerator, attempting to decide what to prepare. Will had a sweet tooth, but he didn’t care to indulge that at breakfast. Eggs, fruit, sausage…..yes, those would do nicely. He hadn’t prepared omelets in some time.  

The sounds of stumbling around upstairs alerted him that his guest was awake, and he quickly returned to the bedroom. Will had managed to kick the covers off and sit up, and was awkwardly trying to avoid touching his bandaged hands to anything as he slid out of bed.

“Good morning Will. How are you feeling?”

The glare his inquiry earned was actually reassuring. He had worried over the younger man’s mental state after last night, but Will was much more himself this morning.

“If you’d like I can check your wounds now.”

The bathroom door shutting in his face was answer enough, but Hannibal waited patiently. He would give the younger man his privacy to handle his physical needs, but Will wasn’t going to hide in the bathroom all morning. Fortunately there was no need for any sort of action, as the door opened only a few minutes later and Will allowed him to enter. The younger man sat on the toilet, looking dispassionately at his hands as Hannibal unwrapped them. The demon was surprised at their appearance when the bandages were finally gone.

"You heal very quickly," he observed.

Will shrugged, his attitude suggesting he was unimpressed. "Wow, empathy and healing. Joy." Hannibal smiled a little.

"I would have thought that these cuts had occurred one, perhaps even two, days ago, not just last night. Another benefit of your heritage, clearly."

"And the hits just keep on coming," Will muttered, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with the demon.

"An advantage; hardly a 'hit'," Lecter countered. He was pleased at this new development. It boded well for Will’s ability to swiftly recover from their eventual mating. He had no desire to see the empath injured from what must take place, but he knew that taking the young man in his natural form would be violent, no matter how gentle he intended to be. Accelerated healing would certainly be an asset .

Most of the wounds were already healed enough that they would require little more than basic first aid. Hannibal applied some waterproof bandages to the worst of the cuts, but left most of them uncovered, satisfied that they would not re-open for the time being, and nodded. "Take your shower, Will, and then I will re-bandage the rest before breakfast."

He left Will alone to shower in peace, choosing to go downstairs and see to breakfast preparations. He would have no trouble hearing when Will finished showering, and started moving downstairs. It was reassuring to know that he would be able to tell when the younger man no doubt tried to sneak out of the house. If Will’s mood was improved from last night, he would be back to his denials and his belief that he could prevent Hannibal’s plans from coming to fruition. The demon was curious to see what form Will’s escape attempt would take.

The thud was a bit concerning, but when it wasn’t followed by anything more Hannibal chose to leave it alone, and wait for Will. It didn’t take long for the shower to stop running, and he waited. Sure enough, not long after, Will appeared at the top of the stairs, trying to walk silently. So, he was going for the front door. Hannibal had anticipated something more creative from the empath. He stepped out so that he was visible, and he saw Will fight not to wince.

“Ah, good. Let’s re-bandage your hands while the omelets set, shall we?”

Since there was no way for Will to make his escape, he followed Hannibal less than graciously through the house to downstairs restroom. It was quick work to finish bandaging those injuries that might possibly be re-opened if Will’s day turned strenuous, and soon enough the younger man was seated at the table as Hannibal brought out breakfast. Will studiously avoided the sausage, choosing to pick at the fruit and eggs.

“What did you tell Jack?”

"That you cut yourself on a broken glass. Then, given the lateness of the hour, I insisted that you spend the night; we were discussing a case until past midnight. You do not have more classes until late this afternoon, and have been noticeably busy on the FBI's cases the past few days and nights, so Jack could not argue against you having a morning off."

Will raised an eyebrow, pausing in his next bite of fruit. "That's...it?"

Hannibal frowned in confusion, wondering what Will could mean.

"I mean, you said we would tell people....we.. that you and I.....damn."

"Why, Will," Hannibal smiled evilly. "You want me to start bragging about our affair already? Surely new lovers are allowed some discrete time for privacy, but if you insist--"

"You know what I mean!"

Hannibal chuckled at the younger man’s discomfiture. Will managed to flush so beautifully. He fully intended to continue reinforcing the idea that they would be lovers, wanting Will to come to understand that he wouldn’t be harmed, but if his hints and comments could make the empath blush as he was currently, so much the better.

"I do indeed," He agreed, taking pity on the blushing teacher. "Calm yourself, Will, I will say nothing for a time and simply let their imaginations and own gossip begin the story. Bit by bit, we can drop a little more here and there. I suspect, though, that we will have to say very little. A few nods and smiles will spread gossip very sufficiently."

"Yeah, doubtful about that when I don't want to have anything to do with you," Will muttered.

Hannibal sighed. "I understand your feelings, Will, I truly do. It is usually never easy accepting one's destiny."

"Destiny?" Will snarled. "What you want is not my destiny."

"How do you know that it isn't?" The demon asked in a reasonable tone.

"My destiny, if there is such a thing, is catching monsters...like you. Trust _me_ , I know."

"Why? Because it is the only thing that you feel you have been successful with?" Hannibal leaned back in his chair, studying the profiler.

"It is no doubt a large part of your destiny, I agree; but how do you know that you were not born for another purpose as well, Will? To be with me? True soul mates are not unheard of among other folk. When I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one I had been looking for."

Will shook his head. "How very nice for you," he muttered. "But didn't work on my part. And it won't."

Hannibal dabbed at his mouth with the linen napkin, putting it down back by his plate. Then quick as a snake, he grabbed Will's wrist. The young man jerked, trying to pull away, but Lecter's grip was unbreakable. He was done with allowing the younger man to lie to himself. It would do Will no good to be allowed to pretend he was so indifferent. Only honesty would ever get them to the point that acceptance would be possible.

"There was more than that, I know, dear Will. Tell me what you thought."

He watched, intently, as Will struggled against following the order, until he had no choice but to comply.

"I didn't like or trust you at all," Will finally said, his voice soft but resigned. "Then I thought maybe having to see you wouldn't be so bad; it just might help me catch the killers faster. Then," Hannibal waited as the empath fought not to speak before giving up. "Then I thought we could be friends. I didn't really want to be - it's easier for me to NOT have friends - but..." Will breathed a sigh of relief when his hand was released.

Hannibal sank back into his seat, slightly disappointed. He knew that Will was telling the truth, but that meant that he really had not thought of anything deeper than friendship. It was ridiculous to think that the empath would have thought along the same lines as he did, and Hannibal hadn’t expected to hear any declarations of love, but it was still disappointing to hear that the most the young man had considered was that having him as a friend wouldn’t be so bad. How little his Will thought of himself.

"Lacking friends makes it easier for you to hide yourself, Will," Hannibal said. "Not easier to survive and thrive. It was a necessary defense mechanism you built, and it served you well enough for a time, with your dogs assisting, but now it is no longer needed."

"You are not my friend," Will hissed. "And I am not yours."

Lecter tilted his head. "Are not mates friends?"

"We are not...either one of those," Will countered.

"We _are_ friends, Will. Friends who have had a disagreement, yes, but still, friends."

"We are not friends," Will gasped after laughing. Hannibal worried that the profiler might be near hysteria. "And calling this a disagreement is the most understated thing I've ever heard you say."

Hannibal just smiled, not contradicting his intended. Will appeared on the verge of screaming and throwing things if he did not contain himself soon. Hannibal rather hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

"Finish your breakfast, Will," he said simply.

Will complied.

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Hannibal would be the first to admit that his foray into the world of pet stores had not gone quite as he intended. He had a firm idea of what was needed for Will’s dogs, and he’d anticipated simply going in and finding the items he wanted, but that idea was blown the minute he set foot in the building.   Celine just laughed at the expression on his face as she grabbed him by his suit jacket and dragged him behind her down the aisles.   How many different varieties of dog house could there be? Surely all that was needed was four walls and a roof? No, he lost count of the different types of houses there were, nor could he even determine what distinguished them from each other that one should cost twice as much as the other. Obviously, the cloth houses weren’t suitable for outdoors, but—did he really just see houses with patios?

“This is absurd,” he muttered to himself. He momentarily forgot that Celine was with him to hear, and that her hearing was almost as good as his.

“No, this is called spoiling your baby’s babies. If you want him to like you, Hannibal, you’d better get in good with his dogs, and there’s only one good way to do that. Their new place had better be absolute heaven if you want him to actually move his animals in with you.”

“So much fuss over animals.”

He didn’t understand it. Will’s dogs served him well, and were loyal companions, which is why Hannibal had braced himself for the reality that where Will went, the dogs did as well, but he didn’t understand why people lavished so much attention and affection on the family pets. It was an entirely foreign concept to him.

“That’s it. Give me your credit card, and go wait outside. I’ll take care of this, since you’re clearly not a dog person and wouldn’t know what to buy if it jumped out and bit you on the ass.”

“No!”

He would not be relegated outside like so many hopeless husbands he’d seen in shopping centers. Celine was correct that Will’s goodwill would be severely hampered if his dogs weren’t taken care of, and Hannibal was determined to participate in the process. He couldn’t call Celine every time the dogs needed something; he would have to be able to do this on his own. Once Will carried their child, he would be housebound for months, and it would be Hannibal’s task to handle.

“No. I will trust to your judgment, but I will not wait for you outside. Lead on.”

Houses for each dog. He was going to lose a large section of his patio. Still, it was worth the loss. He’d never done much entertaining out there, and it would make Will happy to see his pack sheltered.  Once Celine made her choice, the matter of arranging their deliver fell to him. The sales associate was determined to make him wait for two days and Hannibal decided that he may have just found dinner, but a talk with the manager, and he was pleased the man was reasonable and didn’t require compulsion, guaranteed that the houses would be delivered to his home first thing in the morning. The prospect of losing such a sale was more than enough incentive for them to be cooperative, and the sales associate would continue to live once Hannibal heard the manage tell him off less quietly than he probably intended to be. The houses would be heated, which he was certain would please Will. There was little chance of the animals suffering from the elements in their new homes.

The selection of toys was another lengthy process, but he made no objections to Celine’s extravagance. He even went so far as to choose a number of them himself. The dogs would be deprived of their master more than they were accustomed to, since they would not be in the house with Will as they were now. He wanted to ensure that they had plenty of toys to keep them occupied, so that they didn’t tear up his yard. He might have to accept the dogs’ presence, but that didn’t mean his house and yard had to look like a zoo.

Food and water bowls were less of a chore to select. There was little variation on those, apart from size and design, so the choice required less deliberation. The biggest consideration on that purchase was making sure the materials were something that would withstand being outdoors without being torn up.

He managed to successfully repress a shudder when his total cost passed more than a thousand dollars.   He would consider it money well spent if these things would put Will at ease, and make his dogs happy.   And he reasoned that this was an initial investment, and only expected to be expensive. It would be a long time before the dogs needed new houses, or food bowls. In future he wouldn’t have to buy more than toys, and food. Once the bags containing all the toys and bowls were loaded into the back of the Bentley, he sent Celine on her way.   He would arrange everything at the house himself.   He found himself anticipating the expression on Will’s face tomorrow, when he saw his pets’ new home.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Hannibal saw his last patient of the day out the door with more enthusiasm than he usually displayed.  He was eager to get home, and re-check that everything was arranged. Will was coming, to stay the weekend.  For the next sixty hours, at least, his intended would live beneath his roof.  He relished the time, not just because Will would be with him, but because he could finally begin to show Will the future they would have together.   Gods only knew what ideas his empath had cemented in his mind concerning their future, but this was Hannibal’s first opportunity to show him the reality. 

He left the garage door open after he pulled the Bentley in, so that Will would be able to simply drive in.  He wouldn’t make his soon-to-be-mate walk around and knock on the front door, advertising his presence to anyone in the neighborhood, not when it made him so uncomfortable.  While they did have plans for tomorrow evening that would undoubtedly spark rumors, this weekend was for the two of them, so that Will could begin to grow used to his new home.  The time to confirm their relationship would come later. 

It pleased Hannibal to step out onto his patio and see all of the doghouses neatly lined against a wall.  The delivery men had been over eager to ensure he was satisfied before they left, and the result was a precise row of structures that would provide Will’s dogs with necessary shelter and warmth.   The food and water bowls he arranged at one end of the row so that they were in a central location, and he honestly took pleasure in arranging the numerous toys he and Celine had collected into several wicker baskets.  When Will arrived he would be able to see that his loyal canines had every convenience.

With Will due to arrive in an hour, Hannibal returned inside and made a thorough check of all the rooms.  The basement he left alone, as he was sure Will would avoid it like the plague, and it wasn’t necessary to check the attic until Will had things moved, but the rest of house underwent a second thorough inspection.  The kitchen was immaculate as always, but he doubted Will would spend much time there.  The public rooms had already been refreshed, but he fluffed the pillows and cushions on the chairs again, and made certain that the books were straight on their shelves, the better to appeal to Will’s interest.  Will much be comfortable in this house, as it would soon be his own.

He spent the most time in the master suite.  The room was thoroughly his domain, but he’d begun adding the little touches that would also mark Will’s presence.  There were new pillows in the chairs in the reading area, and more books lined the shelves, books that Hannibal was fairly certain Will would enjoy. More closet space had been cleared for Will’s things, and the deliveries from the tailor already hung against his wall.  He looked forward to seeing Will dressed in the well-fitted suits that spoke of quality the empath possessed, but didn’t display in his own choice of clothing.  A second set of towels, this set the color of Will’s eyes, hung on the towel racks in the bathroom, and half the counter space on the sink waited for Will’s toiletries.

 The sheets had been freshly changed so that the bed was now covered in the highest thread-count Egyptian cotton that he could find so that Will would be comfortable.  It was a shame, but the empath had not appreciated the satin sheets the last time he was in Hannibal’s bed.  The sheets were a compromise of sorts:  Hannibal refused to put flannel on his bed, although he knew that Will’s bed in Wolf Trap (he could no longer think of that place as his intended’s home) was covered in it, but the Egyptian cotton was soft enough for Will to wallow and still luxurious enough for the demon’s more refined taste.  Besides, he was certain that in time the young one would come to appreciate the feel of satin and silk sheets.

His phone alerted him to a text message as he again smoothed his hand down the comforter, and he opened it to learn that Will had arrived.  He smiled to himself as he directed the profiler to pull into the garage, heading down the stairs after one last touch to the bed that Will would be sharing with him tonight.   It was going to be a good weekend.

He entered the garage to see the doors closing behind Will’s car as the empath dealt with corralling his dogs.  His intended looked at the closing doors as if they meant a death sentence for him, and he could tell that the young man’s thoughts weren’t far from that comparison.   It wasn’t surprising that Will thought of this weekend as a form of imprisonment, but Hannibal wanted to shake his head at the semi-demon’s stubbornness.

The pack of canines recognized Hannibal as the Giver-Of-Tasty-Treats, and pulled a reluctant Will to meet him.  He had the feeling that Will keeping them leashed was a courtesy; he’d certainly never even seen leashes at the Wolf Trap house.  He appreciated it, that Will took him into consideration.  He would mention it, but he had the feeling that Will wouldn’t be receptive at the moment.  Instead he simply reached out a hand to pet the dog nearest him as he welcomed Will to his home. 

It was amusing to watch the animals drag the younger man out into the yard once he opened the door.  Once released from their leashes, they pounced an all of their new possessions.  He carefully wiped the smirk from his face as Will took in the sight in disbelief. His intended was trying so hard not to be impressed, and failing rather miserably. He could not begrudge the animals taking over his back yard; they were far too important to Will. They would also be loyal companions for their child once it was born, and for any later children he could persuade Will into. 

"Thank you," he said quietly. "This is really nice. You didn't have to do all this."

Hannibal smiled. He could see how much it cost the empathy to say those words.

"Nonsense, they are loyal creatures, and they should be comfortable in their new home....as should you. The kennels are heated, and in severe cold weather we can see about them staying in one of the sheds, if necessary." He cleared his throat discretely. "All I ask is that you do pick up after them."

Will tried to not smile, and didn't fully succeed. "I'll try," he agreed.

“Why don’t you spend some time getting them settled in and fed? I will call you when dinner is ready.”

He left Will to his companions as he prepared dinner.  He looked forward to the day when Will would want to keep him company as he cooked, but for the moment he would let the younger man have his solitude.  It left him free to cook without distraction, or worry for what Will was doing.  He allowed himself to get absorbed in the process of preparation, savoring the feeling of the meat under his hands.  This weekend he would ensure that Will looked after himself properly, beginning with dinner.

When he had everything nearly ready, he stepped outside to call Will in,  only to find him looking very betrayed by Winston as the animal left him for one of the baskets.

“Seriously?” he heard Will protest, “You can be bought for toys?”

“I do not expect the same of you, Will,”  Hannibal alerted the younger man to his presence, watching him reluctantly push to his feet.

"Good," Will muttered, avoiding his eyes. Hannibal just smiled.

"I took the liberty of taking your bag to the bedroom, Will. Why don't you change before dinner?"

The first indication that Will wasn’t as calm as he appeared came fifteen minutes later when he ran down the stairs, missing a shirt and still soaking wet, startling the demon who was finishing the last of the cooking.

“Will?”  Hannibal immediately turned off the burner and gave his attention to the profiler, holding his hand out uncertainly.  What could have happened in so short a time?

"Did you compel me?" Will's voice was bordering on hysteria. "Did I do what you suggested....what you wanted? Was it me or you making decisions?" Blue eyes looked wildly around, struggling to understand.

"Oh, my dear Will," Hannibal sighed. He approached Will carefully, like Will would approach a new stray, holding out one hand to try and encourage the frightened being to come to him, to trust his touch. "Will, breathe, just breathe. There is nothing to be afraid of."

Will choked on his laughter. "Nothing to be afraid of? Other than you being a killer, and what you want from me?" He was near hysteria and backed into a corner, slumping to the ground, resting his head on his arms.

Lecter knelt beside him, close, but not touching. "Will, listen to my voice. Breathe with me. In.....out. In....out." It took a few minutes, but Will finally started to breathe in sync with him. 

"Will, what brought this on? You seemed calm earlier--"

"Did you make me?" Will gasped, his voice ragged with fear. Hannibal was puzzled, unsure what the younger man meant until he continued, "You told me to clean up. I never do that at home....my home. Did you make me?"  Will was practically screaming by the end, and Hannibal regretfully noted that the first time the empathy touched him voluntarily, grabbing onto his jacket with a grip suggesting he was only barely holding onto reality, was during a panic attack.

"Will," Hannibal sighed, sorry beyond words that this was something Will even needed to be reassured of, "No, I did not. Please, calm yourself; listen to me. I have not ordered you to do anything today. Nothing at all, much less something this simple." He smiled at his intended, trying to make light of the insane situation. "Do you really think that I would use my powers on something so petty as making you take a shower?"

Will pondered that for a minute, trying to bring his breathing under control. "Yeah, I wouldn't put it past you," he said finally, "Please, don't compel me anymore. I don't understand what I am doing or why I do it. I need to know what is real, what I have chosen."

"Your design," Hannibal said in understanding. Will closed his eyes, nodding in misery. "Ah, my dear one. Look at me, Will, please." There was a long pause, Will barely able to breathe, waiting to see if it would be his own design or not. "It is entirely your choice, Will, I promise, but I would like you to look at me."

Will finally hesitantly opened his eyes, as if he was trying to determine whether his actions were his own or commanded. Cautiously, telegraphing all his movements, Hannibal brushed his fingers lightly against Will's cheek, and then carefully sat back on his knees so they were not touching. "Will, I promise that I will not compel you unless I truly feel it is for your safety; such as the other night." His eyes fell to the single bandage that remained around Will's right hand. The other cuts had already healed to faint lines. "You have my word on this. If for any reason I do feel it necessary to compel you, I will tell you openly first, and hope that you will decide for yourself what is best. But I will never make you do anything unless it is truly necessary." Ageless eyes smiled a little at the young being. "You do not have to take my word for it alone, Will. _See_ me."

It was the only way to reassure Will that he was telling the truth: plus he wanted the semi-demon to grow accustomed to such contact.  He wanted the younger man to move past the simple human definition of “right” and “wrong” when it came to the things that Others did.  Hunting humans was natural to them, having nothing to do with a desire to cause harm (that was simply an added, and usually well-deserved, bonus in his opinion), and necessary to sustain their own lives. Will’s gifts could be so much more, if he allowed himself to develop them.   He waited, patiently, as Will searched his mind until finally nodding.  Hannibal was proud of his intended for daring to look when he could feel the younger man’s terror still strong.

“Good. Now, if you wish, I could use some assistance with the appetizers.”

Dinner was an affair more tense than Hannibal had hoped for, and he would have been surprised if Will had even noticed what he was eating, but the meal passed easily enough for him to consider it a success.  The conversation was stilted only in the beginning, before he steered Will from any topic related to his presence in the house.  The dogs were a safe enough subject to discuss, and he was able to allow Will to laugh at his expense as he related the story of his trip to the pet store without feeling too badly.  

Once dinner was ended he urged Will to the study, where they were both able to make use of the books lining the bookshelves as a distraction until it was time for bed.  Will made one final check on his dogs, no doubt reassuring them that he would see them in the morning, and returned far more tense than he’d been at any other point during the evening.  Considering that any reassurances would simply be disregarded or disbelieved, Hannibal allowed Will to escape into the bathroom first.  When his turn came he took his time preparing for bed, hoping Will would use the opportunity to calm down.  Nothing the younger man feared would happen this night.  He’d made a promise to be patient and allow Will to adjust, and he would do so.

He had to smile when he emerged from the bathroom to see that Will had somehow managed to form a barricade of pillows between himself and the rest of the bed.  Where had the empath even found all of those pillows?  They certainly didn’t all belong to this room.  No matter.  The pillows wouldn’t keep him away if he was truly determined, but he made no comment on them as he slipped into the bed.  If the pillows provided Will with some extra peace of mind, he was happy to leave them without making an issue of them.  He simply wished Will pleasant dreams and went to sleep. 

\-------------

“Shall I brew a fresh pot?”  he asked Will once the profiler’s cup was empty and the younger man occupied with staring at it mournfully.  “You did not sleep so I assume large amounts of caffeine are in order.”

At Will’s affirmation, he returned to the kitchen to begin another pot of coffee.  He congratulated himself on his idea to retire to the patio after breakfast; it was truly inspired.  Being outside in the presence of his pack soothed Will’s fraying nerves, brought on by the lack of sleep.  It was a pleasant way to spend the morning, sharing the newspaper and drinking coffee while watching the dogs playing in the yard.  He would make this part of their weekend routine.

He frowned when he returned to the patio to see that Will had claimed the crossword puzzle they’d been debating over.  And he was working it in pen.  Hannibal was sure the younger man did it just to be contrary, and that suspicion was confirmed by Will’s smug little smile.

“What would you like to do today?”

  "Do?" Will eyed him suspiciously.

"Yes, Will, one generally does something on a lovely day off, although it need not be extravagant. I was going to suggest a drive, but we could also simply enjoy the day at home."

Will shrugged, trying to not scowl at the word "home". "I don't get many weekends off; Jack usually drags me around the country."

"He does indeed," Hannibal agreed, displeased at the reminder of how hard the semi-demon was worked by the agent who took too great advantage at having Will on campus. "Then how about we simply relax this afternoon, and tonight there is a concert we have tickets for."

They spent several minutes in silence; as Will worked on the stolen crossword Hannibal finished reading the rest of the paper and studied the empath.  The dogs’ presence could only do so much for the underlying fear and anger that radiated from his intended.  Hannibal hadn’t expected that Will would simply fall into his arms this morning, ready to begin their family, but this continued resentment—surely last night should have proven to the young man that he had nothing to fear.  Will was remarkably intelligent, as a result of his demon heritage, he should recognize that if Hannibal had truly wished to harm him last night had been the perfect opportunity to do so.   

"Will, I can smell your fear and anger. I know this is to be expected, but I would like to try and alleviate it. I have promised I will not compel you without your knowledge. What can else can I do to demonstrate my good intentions?"

He could see the wheels turning in Will’s mind as the younger man thought of something he could ask for.  It didn’t take a mind reader to know that there were a great many things Will wished to ask for, but knew would not be granted.  When Will took a deep breath and looked him in the eye, he readied himself to hear something outlandish.

"Don't kill the innocent. And help me catch those who do."

Hannibal raised one eyebrow as he considered the request. That he had certainly not expected to hear. "And would that make you feel better? It is an even trade in your mind, isn't it? If it helps others, you will gladly give yourself....even to me."

Will swallowed, and nodded.

"William," His Will placed so little value on his own worth. "And would that bring you some peace of mind if I agree?"

"Yes."  
  
He couldn’t resist leaning forward and brushing gentle fingers against Will's cheek. "So very noble."

He could tell by how stiffly Will held himself that the younger man was forcing himself to sit still and accept the touch. "Will you do it?"

"I generally do not kill the innocent now, William."

"I'm not saying that you demand virgin sacrifices," Will retorted tartly. "But you kill the rude. Being rude alone does not make someone deserving of being murdered."

"An interesting notion," Hannibal mused thoughtfully. He considered the matter for a moment, leaning back in his chair, and then nodded. "Very well then, I will not kill anyone who has not themselves committed murder. I will hunt only those who hunt people. And I will of course continue to help you see and catch those monsters among humans. If this makes you feel better, I will follow your request."

He accepted Will’s thanks graciously, and brought up a question he’d wondered at.  Would his darling Will come to him completely pure? 

"This does bring up an interesting topic, Will. Are you going to regard yourself as a virgin sacrifice to me?"

He had his answer when the younger man flinched at the question.  It gave the demon great satisfaction to know that he would be the only one to ever have such knowledge of Will’s body.

"Ah, I see." Hannibal at least had the grace to look neither amused nor smug. "Yes, I have long assumed that you are not experienced with men. How true is this of women?"

"That is not your concern."

"William," Hannibal’s hand on his shoulder was needed to keep the profiler from bolting.  He smiled at Will, his expression for once genuine.  "I do need to know, for your own benefit. But I see the answer." He gently squeezed the shoulder. "Your empathy has made it too difficult to have risked such intimacy in the past, I understand. You made a difficult but wise decision considering the circumstances. But there is no need to fear that between us. Our joining is meant to be."

Will jerked away and took up his pen again, eyes focused on the crossword, and refusing to acknowledge the conversation anymore.

Hannibal smiled, and settled in to enjoy the day.


	6. Chapter 6

Will was struggling with the bowtie that had been laid out when Hannibal found him.  The older demon took a moment to simply watch the younger being.  It was most gratifying to see his Will dressed in the clothes he’d chosen for him, even if he did look as though he’d like nothing more than to burn them.  It was obvious that the empath was unused to formal attire, but that would change; now that he was actively courting Will there would be a number of formal occasions in store.  He had a position to maintain, after all.

He finally chose to take pity on Will when it looked as though the bowtie might actually be destroyed in a fit of anger.   Mr. Lim would be most unhappy to learn that anything he’d created, even a simple tie, was treated so badly, and Hannibal made it a point to never anger his tailor.  If anyone could put the fear of a higher power into Hannibal, it was Mr. Kim.

“Allow me, Will.”

He made short work of tying the bow, and stepped back to give the younger being a once over.   It was almost a shame that they had a concert to attend:  he quite liked the idea of keeping this Will all to himself. 

“Do I look alright?”

“You look very handsome, Will.  I will be the envy of everyone who sees you.”

He still hadn’t told Will where they were going; he didn’t want to take any chance that he would find some way to get out of it.  He wouldn’t put it past the profiler to try to invent a work emergency to avoid a benefit concert put on by orphans.  Will seemed as terrified of the idea of children as he was enamored of it. It was his intention to get Will accustomed to the idea of children in general at the same time he was easing into a relationship.  He had every confidence in Will as a parent; it was the empath who needed to develop that same confidence in himself.

“I doubt that.”

“You sell yourself short, Will. If you are ready, it is time.”

He allowed Will to precede him to the garage, locking the doors behind him, and hurried to open the passenger door of the Bentley.  The angry glare Will shot him for the gesture was amusing, and he smiled to himself as he made his way around to the driver’s side.  Will hunched in the corner of the car as they drove off, but Hannibal thought it was more a fear of damaging the car that Will was unused to riding in than any real fear of their destination. 

“You bastard,” he heard Will mutter when the Bentley pulled up to the stairs to the orphanage.   A valet jogged up to take Hannibal’s place in the driver’s seat, and he hoped that he wouldn’t have to later hunt down the human for damaging his car.  He had a promise to Will that he would prefer to keep, after all, but damaging the Bentley would be an unforgiveable sin.  He waited a moment after climbing out of the car, but Will didn’t seem inclined to join him.  Suppressing a sigh, Hannibal made his way to the passenger side and opened the door.

“Are you planning on hiding in the car all night Will?”

“I thought about it.”

“I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re expecting.”

He chose to ignore the muttered curses as he carefully removed Will from the vehicle.  He kept a hand on the younger man’s back as they walked up the steps to the building.  He knew this would be uncomfortable for the empath; so many people in one location were always difficult to block out, and in this case a good bit of the speculation would be firmly centered on them.  Will did have problems with being the center of attention, and for a short time at least, that’s what he would be.   Fortunately, since this was a relatively low-key event, there wouldn’t be press to deal with.  They wouldn’t be so lucky when they attended a number of other functions Hannibal was committed to.  This would be a good event for Will to get warmed up on.

“Dr. Lecter, we’re so pleased that you could make it!”

They were met by the woman in charge of organizing the event, and Hannibal greeted her politely while keeping close attention to Will. 

“We’re looking forward to the evening, Ms. Moss.”

At least Will didn’t contradict him in front of the woman.  He was confident that Will would in fact enjoy the evening if he could let himself relax. Hannibal led the younger man through the gathering crowd to the auditorium where the concert would be held.  It was easy for him to ignore the whispering that followed them as he selected the row that would provide the best view and guided Will to a seat.  He greeted acquaintances who stopped to converse, introducing Will as his friend to the others of Baltimore’s elite who’d chosen to support the orphanage.  He noticed Mrs. Komeda taking a seat, accompanied by some woman whose name he couldn’t remember--she must be one of Komeda’s newest hangers-on-- and he nodded in greeting to her.   This was good.  Once she met Will, word would spread through society at a truly impressive speed that they were a couple.   There weren’t many of Hannibal’s acquaintances at this event, but Mrs. Komeda would more than make up for that deficiency.   She acknowledged his greeting, her look turning curious at Will’s presence, and promising Hannibal that they would speak after.    

“Are you alright Will?”  Hannibal asked as he noticed the younger man tense up.

“Too many people are staring.”

“That will stop once the concert begins,”  he reassured.  Indeed, as the lights started to flicker, everyone moved from talking to taking their seats, and soon enough Ms.  Moss was taking the stage to welcome everyone.   It was a rather paltry crowd, in Hannibal’s opinion.  The rich stumbled over each other to support the arts, and patronize anything that drew publicity, to support for a respectable cause, such as the orphanage, that wouldn’t necessarily enhance their prestige was beneath them.  He was sure that, come the end of the year, more than a few would make donations in order to get a tax write-off, but they couldn’t be bothered to show actual support.

The first piece was a performance by the entire orchestra, and Hannibal braced himself for what he was sure would include too many wrong notes and instruments out of tune.  He was pleasantly surprised when the students played the majority of the piece correctly.  They might not be symphony caliber performers, but their instructor knew what he was doing, and they were all competent.   As a number of the students were presented individually to perform solos, Hannibal’s thoughts drifted to the child they would soon have. He was confident that Will would be pregnant before the end of the year.  Their son or daughter might prove to have musical talent, taking after him.  In less than a decade they might be attending their own child’s school concert, and the young Lecter might be performing solos.  Such evenings might well become a regular part of their lives, and soon. 

He noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Will relaxed as the performance continued, until all the tension that had been present in the car leached out of him.  The younger man was finally able to simply enjoy the music being performed, and seemed to forget to be uncomfortable in the presence of so many others.  The darkness of the auditorium was apparently helpful in ignoring that they were surrounded by people.  Hannibal had noticed something similar when observing Will teach.  His intended liked the illusion of isolation.  He would have to break Will of that.  The empath would have to learn to enjoy being social.  At the moment, though, the illusion that they were alone was in Hannibal’s favor as Will unconsciously leaned closer and closer to him.  He took the opportunity to slip one of his hands over Will’s and curl their fingers together.  He ignored the subtle tug Will gave in an effort to free himself, and focused on the performance on stage with a smile.

“Hannibal, I had no idea you’d be joining us this evening,”   he was greeted by Mrs. Komeda as soon as the concert was over. 

“Nor I you,” he answered as he guided Will from the seats and to the hall where the refreshments were being served.  It wasn’t a surprise that Will had tried to unobtrusively sneak out the back exit as soon as the concert was over.  Hannibal had quickly put a stop to that.  The performance was only part of the evening.   Now they would be able to meet the children who’d performed and speak with them.  Hannibal was very much looking forward to it.

“And who is this young man with you?  I don’t recall ever seeing him before.”

“Of course, forgive me.  This is my friend, Will Graham.  Will is a gifted teacher and profiler for the FBI.”

“The FBI? Really?  And how do you two know each other?”

Will shook his head slightly, avoiding any eye contact with the woman speaking to them, or the woman trailing behind her.  Hannibal gave his arm a light squeeze in comfort before addressing his acquaintance.

“I was asked to consult on a case that Will was working on.  From there, our paths tended to cross with a surprising frequency.”

“He’s not one of your patients?”

He smiled at the question, as he knew she was without doubt remembering the rather disastrous run in with Franklin Froideveaux at the opera, the only other time she’d seen a newcomer in Hannibal’s company. Fortunately for all of them, Will would leave a much better impression than Franklin did.

“Good William has never been a patient of mine.” It was the truth, at least officially, “He’s perfectly functional and more or less sane without my help.”

“We should all be so lucky.  It’s a pleasure to meet you Will.  Has Hannibal cooked for you yet?  He gives the most delightful dinner parties when he puts his mind to it.”

Hannibal quickly steered the conversation away from food.   That would be too difficult a discussion for Will to participate in, being unable to say anything about their true diet.  Also, the younger man had difficulty enough actually eating what Hannibal prepared, in spite of the compulsion to do so.  Reminding him of what he consumed seemed cruel.  It was easy enough to turn the conversation to the children’s performances.

At the first opportunity, Will slipped away.  Hannibal bit back the disappointment that the empath’s walls had gone up once again.  They had made what he considered good progress, and now Will was back to attempting to hide in the shadows with the children who seemed uncomfortable with attention.  They reminded him very much of Will, in a number of ways.  Still, he didn’t let Will’s shyness bother him too badly.  A child climbed up onto his lap the moment he sat down, and he was happy to entertain her.  This might be their child, with the curls that reminded him so much of Will’s. 

“Dr. Lecter, I had no idea you’d be here this evening.”

Hannibal controlled the wince that threatened as he heard a voice he’d rather not hear.   He actually quite liked Laurie Sinclair, the patient Alana had referred to him, but he didn’t want work to interrupt this evening with Will.  At least he was sure that with Laurie their chance meeting really was a chance meeting.  In all their sessions together, she had not treated him as anything other than her therapist.  Indeed, she seemed to have very little interest in him outside of their professional relationship.

“Good evening, Laurie.  It is a pleasure to see you.”

The man with her must be the fiancé.

“And you must be Howard.”

Said fiancé immediately held out his hand, and Hannibal reluctantly allowed his to be shaken a bit too enthusiastically. 

“Yes.  It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Lecter.  Laurie tells me you’ve been incredibly helpful to her, after what Tracy did to her.”

“The pleasure is all mine.  Laurie is a remarkable young woman. Congratulations.”

Fortunately, Laurie didn’t seem inclined to continue chatting after their greeting, and they were soon on to others after a charming apology to Hannibal’s young companion for interrupting them.  Hannibal looked back over to Will, who looked as if he might make a run for it at any moment.  Perhaps it was time they were on their way.  Will would likely want to spend some time with his pack once they reached home. The girl on his lap yawned, not quite able to hide it with her hand, and that decided him. 

“Well, I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

A small curly head shook viciously.

“It’s too early for bed.”

“But I’m very sleepy, and it’s a long way to drive.  I think it’s time for me to go home now.”

“But you’ll come back again?”

Hannibal nodded his agreement.  Will might like to visit again.  At the very least, he could hardly complain about visiting orphans.  And spending more time with children could only be beneficial for the younger man. 

“Pinky swear?”

Hannibal bit his lip to keep from smiling when the child spoke so seriously. 

“Pinky swear.”

He extended his pinky finger, and shook once she hooked hers around it.  Only then was he released, and he managed to herd Will out the door while making their excuses to everyone who protested their leaving so early.  The look of relief on Will’s face told him he’d made the right decision.

When they returned to the house, Will went straight for the alcohol as he loosened his tie, pouring himself a nightcap.  Hannibal chuckled at the sight of an FBI profiler, a man used to getting into the minds of some of the worst criminals, needing a drink after a children’s concert.

"Was it really so awful; spending time with children?"

Will glared at him. "I know what that was," he muttered.

"A step toward acceptance, I hope." Will shook his head.

"Not hardly."

Hannibal smiled a little. "Then I will continue my efforts," he said.

Hannibal turned to the study while Will went out to play with his dogs.   Soft music was what was needed, something to help the younger man relax when he finally came inside.  He was reading when Will finally joined him, and picked up a book himself.  Hannibal gave him almost an hour before he set his book down and watched him, knowing it would eventually provoke a response.  They couldn’t go to bed until they had a discussion that Will seemed to be trying his best to put off, and Hannibal was rather tired.

"William, is it really so bad? Is what we shall have so hard to accept, given what you know now of your nature and mine? There is much good that will come of it. I promise you that you and the child will want for nothing; you will both be safe and loved and protected. It will not be the broken home of your childhood, William, I know this troubles you. You and our child will be cherished and we will be the family you have always sought to have."

Will fidgeted with his glasses, looking down at the carpet. "It is not my design," he answered.

"And does that make it so dreadful?"

"What is dreadful is that I don't have a choice; you have made that very clear."

"Ah," Hannibal nodded. "You value choice and control, since in truth you have had so little of it. Your empathy makes you doubt your actions, never certain if there are of your choice or influenced by others. And given the evil minds you walk in, this makes you doubtful of yourself."

"And what would you suggest to help me, _Doctor_?" Will scowled, still studying the carpet and not wanting to meet Hannibal’s eyes.

Hannibal smiled again. "Nothing dramatic," he answered. "Just continue as we have. I have given you my word that I will not compel you to actions, and will not hurt the innocent. Now, perhaps, a _quid pro quo."_

Will swallowed hard, nervous. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You are," Hannibal acknowledged. "As are your dogs, and I understand the faith and trust that requires from you. But perhaps another small step tonight." Will looked up, his eyes wide, and Hannibal held up a graceful hand. "No, Will, nothing extreme, I assure you. Simply allow yourself to rest tonight, to sleep beside me without fear." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Surely, that is not too much to ask? To trust me?"

"Trust?" Will clenched his fists. "That is a ..... debatable....notion."

Hannibal nodded. "It can be indeed. We were friends before, were we not? We can be again, if you will allow me. Let me earn some new trust from you, yes?" He stood and held out a hand, letting Will make the choice.

He watched the struggle on the empath’s face, and was pleased when Will finally nodded.  He hadn’t honestly expected that Will would actually accept his hand, so he took the nod for the acknowledgment it was and began turning out the lights, shutting the house down for the night.  Once he was finished he urged Will to remove himself from the chair with a light touch to his shoulder, and guided him up the stairs.  The young man hesitated at the doorway to the bedroom, his breathing suddenly turning heavier, and Hannibal laid a slightly heavier hand on his shoulder, grounding him. It would not do to let Will’s imagination run wild and torment him with things that would not be demanded tonight.

"Trust, Will," he whispered. "It cannot be automatically given, only earned. I want to earn back some of your trust, if you will allow me. This is actually the third night you have been here, Will. The first night, you may remember, I saw and touched your body, and nothing occurred. You were in shock, and if I was going to take advantage of you, that would have been the time, but I did not. Last night you were so angry and uneasy that you would not sleep. There is another choice, Will, to allow yourself to be at ease. This can be your design." Hannibal's voice was calculated to be soothing, and he watched Will’s curls bounce as the spoke into his ear.  Those curls were fascinating, and he would, if it was in his power, ensure that their child also had them.

At Will’s nod, Hannibal guided him through the bedroom into the bathroom, and instructed him to ready himself for bed.  While Will showered, he returned to the study and brought up the book that Will had been reading, knowing that his intended wouldn’t be comfortable simply slipping into bed and waiting for him. He was sitting in a chair reading when Will emerged from the bathroom, wanting to give the younger man enough space so that he wouldn’t feel threatened.  He took his own turn in the shower, enjoying the scent of Will that saturated the space as he cleaned himself.  It was pleasant to imagine that there might come a time they shared this space together, Will unafraid of such intimate proximity.

The thought flitted through his mind, as it had before, that perhaps it might be a kindness to Will to take him in this human form, to ease the younger man’s body into accepting the intrusion that must be. He immediately banished the thought, as he had every time it occurred. Will would not be willing, even if he didn’t physically fight back.  And he would not be able to keep control of himself faced with such free use of his intended’s body: he would surely cause harm and only terrify the younger being further.  No, he would be patient, and allow Will to make the choice of acceptance, and wait until the conception of their child.

As soon as he was ready for bed, he rejoined Will, gently taking from him the book that wasn’t being read, merely held up, and the glasses he used to hide from the world, urging him to stand and guiding him to bed.  To his pleasant surprise Will didn’t hesitate, or dig in his heels as he’d anticipated, but settled into the bed, only tensing slightly when Hannibal arranged himself behind the younger man, so that the barest contact existed between their bodies. 

"What is amusing?" he asked curiously, carding his fingers through Will’s curls, when the younger man snorted softly.

"You're petting me like a dog," Will pointed out.

Hannibal chucked. "I apologize. But your curls are rather tempting." The fingers continued their petting and massage, Hannibal sensing that Will was not necessarily objecting to the action.

"Curly hair is a pain in the ass if you’re a guy. Girls are jealous. Old ladies constantly patting your hair, and saying that curls are wasted on boys. Look like you're wearing a clown wig if you get caught in the rain. It's annoying."

Will shifted, getting more comfortable. Hannibal adjusted his position to accommodate Will’s movements.  It felt wonderful, to have Will pressed comfortably against him.  He could feel the younger man ready to relax into sleep, a complete turnaround from his behavior the night before.  It was rather impressive that the semi-demon hadn’t already drifted to sleep, relaxing as he did under Hannibal’s ministrations.

"Do curls run in your family?"

"My dad, yeah. Don't know anything about my mother's side."

"Ah," Hannibal pressed the lightest of kisses to Will's neck, Will not even noticing. "Boy or girl, I hope that our child inherits your curls."

Will sighed, rubbing his cheek into the pillow, letting sleep claim him. "It's a pain," he repeated with a mumble. Hannibal drifted to sleep not long after Will fell into oblivion, his thoughts centering around a child with his mother’s curls.  It really shouldn’t be too difficult to ensure that those particular features were passed on to their child, not for one with his abilities.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“I’ll be there by three o’clock,” Celine promised through the phone’s speaker. Hannibal nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.  
“I’ll be there to meet you.”  
His plan to spirit Will away for the weekend was coming together perfectly. Celine would remain at his house to care for the dogs, so Will would have no excuse to refuse. Will would be able to meet the woman at last, so his mind could be at ease over the animals’ welfare. The cabin was ready to receive them, and the agent had promised that it would be stocked with fishing gear so that Will could lose himself in the river. He was determined that he would see Will lose that tense expression that had become an almost permanent fixture these last weeks.  
Will needed this time away, regardless of whether he would admit it. He’d accepted spending the weekends with Hannibal at home, and he’d fallen into the rhythm of weeknight visits as well without complaint, but the last few months had been difficult for the empath. Not only was he still not allowing himself to accept the inevitable, but his occupation was wearing on him. The Chesapeake Ripper’s silence should mean a break for dear Will, but instead it seemed that Hannibal’s silence was inspiring lesser artists to begin making their displays. Will’s days were being spent less and less in the classroom and more out in the field, and it was taking its toll on the younger being. Steps would have to be taken to remedy that, if Jack didn’t pull back on his own. This weekend was a first step in the right direction; Will’s cell phone would be conveniently forgotten and they would be free of the FBI. Will could spend his time fishing, and Hannibal—well, Hannibal could indulge in favorite books, or continue his drawing, or simply spending the weekend watching Will relax would be enough to satisfy him.  
Hannibal grimaced as the clock chimed the hour. It was only eleven, and he had less than desirable patients to see today before he could go home. Since it would be rude to cancel the rest of his day’s sessions, he resigned himself to the fact that he frequently had to do many unpleasant things in his existence. At least none of them were quite as bad as poor Franklin had been. He might have to do some hunting if this weekend presented the opportunity, to take the edge off.  
***********  
“Who are you?”  
Hannibal had to fight not to sigh in exasperation. Really, Will’s first words upon stepping out of his car could have been less rude. The dogs remembered Celine, however, and immediately pulled away from Will to swarm her.  
“Will, this is Celine, an associate of mine.”  
“Associate?”  
“Celine took care of your pack the night you injured yourself.”  
“Oh. A demon then. Great.”  
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Will. Hannibal’s told me so much about you.”  
At least Will remembered his manners enough to shake the hand Celine offered before she dove back into petting the dogs.  
“What is she doing here?”  
Will’s attention was finally on him, and the look on his intended’s face was one of absolute bewilderment.  
“Celine has agreed to stay with the dogs for the weekend.”  
“Why would she need to stay with the dogs?”  
“We’re going away for the weekend, Will. You need a break from Uncle Jack.”  
“I can’t just take off for the weekend, Hannibal,” the profiler protested. Hannibal forestalled any objections with a hand to Will’s shoulder. He could feel the tension throughout the younger being’s frame, and he was determined to alleviate some of it with this trip.  
“It’s all been arranged; we were only waiting for you to arrive with the dogs. Now, say goodbye to them so that we can leave. It is a bit of a drive where we’re going.”  
He took the bag from Will’s hand and stowed it in the trunk of the Bentley, not giving the younger man a chance to refuse. He’d put too much work into making this weekend happened to give Will time to dig in his heels and get stubborn. After Will said a few parting words to his pack, and a few of them actually ventured to the car to puzzle out what was different, Hannibal maneuvered his intended in and they were off. He felt only momentary guilt in the light compulsion he injected into the suggestion that Will sleep as they drove; Will desperately needed the rest.

“Where are we?” Will asked when the car slowing to a stop woke him, three hours later. This wouldn’t be an area that Will was familiar with, another reason Hannibal had approved of it. He wanted the younger man to have a chance to explore.  
“A cabin I rented for us. Far away from Uncle Jack and any homicides, for the entire weekend.”  
“And what happened to the cabin owner?”  
The question that should have been a demand merely sounded tired, and Hannibal grinned. This time away would definitely be good for Will.  
“As far as I am aware, the owner lives in New York. This is a rental, all legal and aboveboard.”  
He couldn’t be angry at Will’s assumption. It had been some time since he’d hunted, choosing instead to go through what he’d already stocked. Will would know he was feeling the itch to hunt again, and a remote location would be preferred.  
“Oh.”  
He left Will to remove himself from the car as he collected their luggage. Since they were only away for a weekend, there was not much to worry about. Apart from the suitcase containing their clothing, Hannibal had packed only a duffle bag with some sketch pads and pencils, and a few books he’d seen Will perusing in addition to the two he’d included for himself. All of it could be carried in one trip, and he would come back for the cooler containing their food later. By the time he’d collected the bags and closed the trunk, Will had managed to climb out of the car, and he stood, staring at the cabin.  
“Not bad, I guess.”  
It wasn’t enthusiasm, but Hannibal would take the lack of hostility as a positive sign. He urged the younger man onward, and was pleased that it took only minor nudging to get Will up the porch and to the door. A brief moment of digging unearthed the keys from his pocket, and he quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing Will to precede him.  
It was exactly as the agent had promised: a space laid out in an open floor plan. The bedroom was separated from the main area only by a large arched hallway, and curtains to give the illusion of another room. The kitchen was large enough that Hannibal would have no problem cooking. The “living room” was distinguished by the recessed floor that one had to step down into in order to reach the couches, and the focal point of the main area was a large fireplace against one wall. The only truly separate room was the bathroom, but Hannibal supposed that couldn’t be helped. Here was a space to decompress, and allow Will the freedom to do whatever he wished while not allowing him to hide himself away.  
Will was immediately drawn to the fishing equipment that was tucked into the corner of the dining area, near the table. There was a back door, which Will opened to find that it led directly down to the river. Hannibal smiled as he watched some of the stress his intended carried with him literally melt away. He resigned himself to the fact that he would receive little of Will’s attention this weekend.  
“If you wish to rest before dinner, Will, please do so. You have at least an hour.”  
“I think I’ll go down to the river, check it out.”  
“As you wish. I would advise that you keep close attention to the time, though. You wouldn’t want to get lost in the dark.”  
It would be more accurate to say that he didn’t want Will outside in the dark. There was a reason he’d chosen this place for their getaway: a number of disappearances were connected with this wood. He’d already done his homework, and the man he that was certain was behind the disappearances frequented this area. If everything worked out well, Hannibal would be ridding the world of another human killer, and re-stocking his freezer. Once Will was in a deep sleep he planned to see if he could sniff out this man, and do some hunting.  
He didn’t want to risk Will getting caught in his target’s clutches. Not when he wasn’t sure that Will wouldn’t simply decide that dying was better than killing the man himself. He didn’t trust the younger man’s mental state, not when acceptance of their future, and their child, was still absent. Will wouldn’t even accept that Hannibal was capable of loving him, or that he was worth being so loved; acceptance of their family would still be some time coming.  
By the time Will returned, unharmed, dinner was ready. Hannibal carried the ham, a real ham this time, to the table, leaving Will to pour the wine. This weekend would also be a break for Will in that he would not have to consume any human meat. Will was healthy enough now that a few days would make no difference. Hannibal moved the pan that contained the vegetables to the table as Will found plates and silverware, and they fell into their dinner in a peaceful silence. Hannibal could see the months of tension working their way out of Will’s shoulders. Yes, this weekend could count as a great success, if only for that.  
**********  
Once he was sure that his light “push” would keep Will in the deep sleep he’d already fallen into, Hannibal slid from the bed and padded lightly out the door. It was a relief to be able to shed his human form for a time, and the woods called for him to run in his natural form. He could run much farther, much faster, and the breeze he created felt wonderful against his bare skin. Those animals he startled kept well clear of him, bone deep instinct warning them away from the strange creature among them.  
He was quite a distance from the cabin when he smelled the scent of human. With any luck, this would be the human he sought. He meant to do everything in his power to keep his promise to Will, and hunt only those who hunted other humans. He wouldn’t like to stumble upon some random hiker who’d done nothing.  
The scent of fresh blood led him to a small clearing where he found his quarry, bent over the body of another human. He’d caught this one in the act. Good. If Will saw this, which was always possible, he would know that Hannibal had not been indiscriminate. He could not feel too badly about being too late to save the unknown victim. He was not here for them, after all.  
His intended prey stiffened, and looked around, as though he knew he was being watched. Hannibal waited as the body was laid down on the ground and the man pulled out a hatchet. The demon snorted softly; arming himself would do this man no good. With a low growl he stepped out of the shadows, and he watched terror mount in the man’s expression. With a yell, the human turned to run. Hannibal smiled to himself. A chase, then. This would be fun.  
As always, it was over too quickly. The human was fit, and desperation added to the adrenaline flooding his body, but he was no match for the demon’s speed. After only a few minutes, Hannibal easily overtook him, his talons shredding through the man’s skin down to the bone. If this body was ever found, it would appear as though an animal had gotten hold of him. This area was known for wolves. Indeed, he felt more than one of those creatures watching him as he took the meat he wanted from the man’s body. The animals could have the meat; he could hear their young howling in the distance, worried at their parents’ disappearance. His foray must have disturbed their slumber, sending the adults out to investigate. He would leave them their meat as an apology for disrupting them.  
He passed the other body as he carried his harvest back to the cabin. It had not yet been touched by the local wildlife, so he stopped. Waste not, want not, after all. He would have a double supply to take home and refill the freezer. Once he had everything in hand he returned to the cabin, shifting back into his human form as he went and took care of storing the meat, then cleaning the kitchen. Over an hour after he left, he re-joined Will in bed and drifted off to sleep, looking forward to the next two days of peace.  
*********  
As he watched Will pull in yet another fish from the river, Hannibal mused that there were certainly worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon. His sketchbook was filled with sketches of Will in various poses throughout the day, and now he was well into the fourth chapter of his book. The fish Will added to the line in the water would be used in tonight’s dinner, so that they would not go to waste. He’d expected that Will would end up providing dinner, so he was prepared with recipes that would highlight his intended’s contributions.  
Earlier in the day he’d actually been invited to join Will in fishing, but he’d abandoned the practice after the current of the river and a misguided placement of a foot against a slick rock had taken him under. The water was far too cold to spend any amount of time in, and he’d come up sputtering. It was an utterly humiliating situation to find himself in, but it had drawn a laugh from Will, the first genuine laughter he’d heard from the empath since the night he’d learned the truth. Hannibal had been unable to maintain his anger as he pulled himself from the water and trudged off to change his clothes. When he returned he made sure to stay a safe distance away from the water, choosing a sturdy tree to serve as his backrest as he settled in to watch Will.  
It had been quite some time since he’d spent a weekend doing so little. Perhaps this break had been necessary to more than just Will. He hadn’t spent so much time away from the city, from humans in general, since he’d first scented Will in his territory and resurrected the Chesapeake Ripper. Everything had been calculated to bring the younger man to this point, and now that his goal was achieved, perhaps he should take his own advice and get away from everything more often.  
H—H----H----H-----H-----H  
Hannibal was growing worried. He’d returned from the store to find the house empty of Will, the dogs left as his only company. He briefly entertained the thought that something had spooked Will into trying to run, but discarded it almost immediately. Nothing in the world would compel Will to leave without his dogs. Besides, Will had been at his easiest with the situation, ever since their weekend away.  
The most obvious answer was that he’d been called in by Jack to work on a case. Knowing where Will most likely was should have been reassuring, but his every phone call had gone unanswered, and it had now been several hours. Had something happened to Will? When his fifteenth call went directly to voicemail, he pulled up another number.  
“Jack, its Hannibal. I’m worried about Will; he hasn’t come home yet and he isn’t answering his phone.”  
The depths to which humans could sink never ceased to amaze him, but as he listened to Crawford attempt to gloss over an incredibly bad crime scene, he knew it had to be worse than he’d even thought. He ended the call, barely remembering to be courteous, before grabbing his car keys. He knew exactly where Will would go after leaving such a sight. He would go back to Wolf Trap.  
As he’d expected, he saw Will’s car in front of his house the minute the Bentley pulled in view of the yard. The front door was closed, which hopefully meant that Will was inside. If he’d gone wandering, it would be considerably more difficult to find him. Hannibal took it as a good sign that when he climbed out of the car he saw no visible tracks to indicate Will had left the house. He stood on the porch for two solid minutes, knocking, to give Will warning that he was here, but the profiler never answered the door. That was permission enough for him to let himself in.  
“Will?”  
Will wasn’t in the main room, or in the kitchen. Hannibal sniffed the air, inhaling Will’s scent, which was too strong to be residual. The younger being was still in the house, and he was on this floor. Hannibal followed the scent down the hallway to the bathroom. He could hear Will’s breathing, but his knock went unanswered. Trying the doorknob, he found it to be unlocked, and carefully pushed it open. Will was curled up on the floor, his hands covering his ears and his eyes screwed tightly shut.  
“Will.”  
Will ignored his calls, not even acknowledging his presence. Hannibal wondered what the empath could have seen that would have caused him to retreat so deeply inside himself. The demon knelt down beside his intended and pulled him up against his chest, attempting to ground the younger man back into reality. When Will began to fight him, he easily stood and started carrying his precious cargo from the bathroom. Will needed to at least be in his own bed, not curled up on the bathroom floor.  
“Listen to my voice, Will,” he purposely kept his tone soothing, “You are safe. You are in your home.”  
“They weren’t safe!”  
Hannibal very nearly paused before he continued his trek to the main room.  
“Who were not safe, Will?”  
“The children.” Will bit back a sob. “They weren’t safe or at home.” He gagged, and Hannibal paused, making sure Will would not choke. “And you want to bring a child into this world?”  
“Our child will be protected.”  
“The parents thought their children were too.”  
Hannibal paused again. “I understand,” he finally said.  
He gently laid Will on the bed, and then settled in beside him. Will might protest his presence, but the last thing the empath needed at the moment was to be left alone. Jack had taken him to a crime scene full of children. Crawford should be horse whipped for the damage he was inflicting. He held Will to him, allowing him the time he needed to take however long was needed to return to his own mind and body.  
“Did you think that I ran from you?” Will finally asked, and Hannibal allowed himself a smirk.  
“You could not run, Will. Not without your dogs, and they are still at the house.”  
He tucked Will’s head under his chin as the empath closed his eyes and nodded.  
“I don’t know if I can see that again,” the younger man confessed. “It wasn’t normal. There was so much terror, so much pain…..I think—“he hesitated, and Hannibal stroked his hair, encouraging, but not pushing. “I think for a while I was seeing though the victim’s minds, and not the killer.”  
Hannibal’s arms tightened slightly. “That is a possibility,” he conceded. “I have wondered why you see though the killer’s mind before the victim. There is nothing right or wrong in this; just a curiosity. One would think that the emotions would be equally powerful. Perhaps you are just tuning into the force with more power and control when you see a crime scene.”  
He felt Will tense before his heart started racing. “Could I see through the victim’s mind?”  
There was a pause. “I do not see why not.”  
“Can you teach me?”  
“William, I –“  
“Can. You. Teach. Me?” Every syllable was spit out.  
Hannibal tightened his arms around Will, cocooning him. “I believe so. As I said, I do wonder why you see the killer first. It is likely the power and control at the scene that you sense at the beginning. With training, I think you could pick your focus.”  
Will nodded, and raised his head, fighting against Lecter’s hand, so he could look the demon in the eyes. “Help me find the person responsible for this. And when we do, I don’t want them to live.”  
Hannibal just nodded, his expression impassive. He would take great pleasure in ending the life of the sick bastard who chose to torture children.  
“And then—“ Will swallowed tightly, his voice ragged. “And then I’ll do what you want.” He laid his head back down, trying to regain his breath. “You won’t have to rape me.”  
*************  
He didn’t find the man as quickly as he wished, but at last, find the man he did. It was with genuine pleasure that he shed his human form and visit on this monster the same atrocities he’d visited on innocent children. It was only fair that this creature pay for the torment that Will had suffered from the crime scene. Will’s nightmares of that grizzly place had not yet abated, and Hannibal was determined to make this killer pay for each and every one.  
When he was finally satisfied, there was little enough left to even classify the mangled body as human. Hannibal was careful to stage the body where it would quickly be found by the police, and to arrange the blood and semen samples he’d taken to confirm that this was indeed the murderer of children that the FBI sought. It would quickly be handed over to Crawford’s team, and Will would know that he kept his word. And soon enough, Will would be in his home, allowing him to create their child, cementing their lives together.


	8. Chapter 8

Hannibal looked up from his case notes at the sound of his outer door opening. There shouldn’t be anyone in his office; he was finished with patients for the day. He reached for the scalpel in his drawer as he heard the knob on his office door turning, but put it down when Will stepped in. He wasn’t expecting Will tonight. The younger man must have come straight from the FBI.  
“Good evening Will.”  
“Thank you.”  
He could see how difficult it was for Will to say those words.  
“You are welcome,” he answered quietly as he put his notes away for the evening. He wouldn’t do Will the discourtesy of continuing to work while he was there, and he knew he would be heading home, either with Will or without him.   
“I assure you that it was a pleasure to rid the world of him.”  
He could smell the fear radiating off the younger being. Despite his offer, Will was in no way ready to fulfill his word. To take him tonight would be cruel. No, he would give his Will a few more days. Perhaps it would be beneficial for the empath to have a deadline to meet; surely anything that occupied his mind would be helpful.   
“Friday, Will. Friday you will come to me.”  
That would give him adequate time to see to the necessary preparations. He must have everything ready so that he could care for Will after their mating was done. He would not leave Will to suffer any small pain that could be prevented, simply because he was unprepared.   
It was disappointing to have Will take his leave so quickly, but not unexpected. Hannibal comforted himself with the knowledge that Friday would be the end of the pursuit.   
He spent the week readying his home for Will’s arrival. This was different from their usual weekends together. Will would require a great deal of attention once their mating was through. Hannibal intended to have everything prepared so that he would not have to leave Will’s side. Heating pads and blankets were stored under the bed. The first aid kit was moved to the bathroom so he would have immediate access to it.   
When Friday arrived Hannibal arranged for the pickup and transport of Will’s dogs to the house. He would retrieve Will from Quantico himself, so that he could reinforce his suggestion to Jack that Will wouldn’t be needed for anything over the weekend. He would need that time to recover. If he allowed Will to go back to Wolf Trap, even to pick up the dogs, the younger man would no doubt work himself into a panic, and perhaps attempt to run. Hannibal owed it to Will to ensure that everything ran as smoothly as possible. He was even cooking one of Will’s favorites for dinner, and without human meat in it.  
It did not take long to reinforce in Jack’s mind that Will would not be needed for anything this weekend. Jack would find that he could handle anything that might come up without his pet profiler. Will would need all the time Hannibal could give him to recover.   
He found his intended in his lecture hall, packing up as the last students filed out. Will looked surprised to see him, and not a little unhappy at his presence. Hannibal briefly wondered if the younger being had thought to try to sneak away.   
“Come to get me yourself, have you?” Will asked.  
The doctor smiled. “I was informing dear Uncle Jack that he would not need to call on your services this weekend. You deserve some time off.”  
Will paused in putting on his glasses, honestly shocked despite all that he knew about Hannibal.   
“You can compel Jack? Seriously?” Despite everything, Will could not help but be impressed. “Wow, you really are a demon.”  
Hannibal chuckled. “It does take all my power,” he said solemnly.  
When Will attempted to head for his car, Hannibal gently but firmly guided him into the Bentley. There was more than just the pleasure of Will’s company on the line with this maneuver; he was truly worried what might happen with Will behind the wheel of a car in his distracted state. He wouldn’t allow even the possibility that something so mundane as a traffic accident might take Will away from him, not when he was about to achieve everything he’d set out to have. The drive was made in a silence that, while not uncomfortable, was far from easy, but he kept his words to himself. Will needed whatever time he could be given to come to terms with the situation on his own. As soon as they reached the house he sent Will out to greet his pack while he worked on dinner. The dogs would help to keep the empath calm.  
As he prepared the seafood gumbo he was cooking specially for Will, Hannibal considered the coming events. He would have Will tonight, and tomorrow he would have a new mate with a child beginning to grow inside his body. Just the thought of such was enough to make him want to haul Will up to bed, but he knew he could do no such thing. He’d kept the promise he’d made to himself, not to force his intended into anything, which meant they’d not shared their bodies. Will would be damaged from the creation of their child, no matter how easy with him Hannibal intended to be. The only mercy he could grant the younger being was to allow him to sleep through their joining and mitigate the damage once it was done. The demon would not cause further damage by losing control of himself while Will was conscious to fight him.   
Dinner was strained, Will’s anxiety growing as time progressed. Hannibal had to admit that it was rude of him to stare at Will so, discomfiting the empath (he would also admit that wasn’t anything he’d intended to do, not that Will would believe it), but he truly was intoxicating. When Will grabbed a towel to dry the dishes, Hannibal sent him back outside to see to the dogs. He could easily take care of the dishes, and Will needed the comfort of his animals. He kept an ear on the action outside as he cleared the table and returned his kitchen to order, taking a moment to brew the tea that would put Will to sleep for the night. He could hear the empath attempting to reassure his pack that everything was fine, and that he would return to them. The animals must be able to sense his unease. Smiling to himself, Hannibal carried the steaming teacup into the study, and took up straightening his books.   
After a few minutes, he heard Will step into the study, and he turned to his intended with a smile, extending his hand. It was gratifying when Will joined him, and allowed him to indulge in an embrace without pulling away. Perhaps, in the future, Will would allow more than just an embrace.   
His explanation of the night’s events fell on ears too stunned to truly understand, and he recognized that Will was attempting to disassociate himself from what was happening. The offered sedative was quickly accepted, and he was satisfied to watch as the cup was drained, adding his own compulsion to keep Will under for the entire night. He began the shift to his true form before Will’s eyes closed completely, and he carried his beloved up the stairs to the bedroom, where everything was already prepared.  
XXXXXX  
Hannibal sighed, feeling his body shift rapidly back into its human form. After so many years, his human appearance was an easy second nature to him, but still, it was always refreshing to regain his own original form, even just for a short time. Ordinarily he would savor his natural appearance for a while longer, but tonight he had to return to his human body quickly. He was needed.  
Will.   
Transformation complete, Hannibal used his softer, gentler, human hands to touch his newborn mate, checking him over carefully. Will was boneless, deeply asleep from the tea and his guidance, and the demon was grateful. He had known their first joining would be violent as he could not hold himself entirely back, and examining the younger being, he winced at the damage to the pale and fragile skin.  
He had anticipated the bites and scratches and cleaned them all methodically, bandaging when necessary. The long scratches around Will’s hips were especially deep but fortunately could be tended with butterfly bandages and had already stopped bleeding. Hannibal expected that with Will’s accelerated healing most of the wounds would be gone in a few days and no longer marring the soft skin. Still, he berated himself as he cleaned the sheer number of marks he had made. It was truly uncalled for. The injuries he’d inflicted told him that he’d been right to keep Will unconscious during their coupling.  
Once all the wounds were tended, Hannibal got fresh water, adding a soothing lavender oil to the basin. He then bathed his mate carefully, spending extra time on the dark curls, washing them tenderly with moist towels and a comb, before applying lotion to the slender body and then wrapping Will safely up in a fresh blanket, ensuring that he was warm and comfortable. He did keep one arm free, inserting an IV line into the fine vein in Will’s right hand, and administered an antibiotic and sedative with a syringe before he safely tucked the arm back under the cover of the blanket. The rest could for a few minutes now that he knew Will was safe.  
He quickly stripped the bed, bringing out the new, high quality sheets and pillows that he had kept in the closet. Only once he was certain that the entire bed was fresh and clean did he gently pick up his mate, and move him back into the warm safely of the covers. Will looked so small and fragile against the dark sheets, and Hannibal sighed, truly distressed that he had been the cause of such injury. But there had been no other way for their child to be conceived. He set up the IV pole and bag, and started a drip of fluids and nutrients. Will – and the child – would need the nourishment.  
Finally satisfied that Will was safe and comfortable, Hannibal applied himself to one more important task. He dearly wanted to take a shower and clean himself, but he had to think of Will…..and others…first.  
He dressed simply and went downstairs. It was just past dawn, and the dogs were milling around, waiting for their breakfast. They were clearly confused when Will did not appear, but let Hannibal feed them without complaint, especially when he gave them extra treats.  
“Your master is well,” he told them when Winston looked at him suspiciously. “He needs to rest today but you shall see him tomorrow,” he promised. Hannibal cleaned up their messes from the night and made sure they had fresh water and their blankets were aired and laid out.  
Only after the dogs were settled did Hannibal return to his bedroom. Checking that the IV line into Will’s hand was running smoothly, he finally indulged in a long hot shower, letting the water cleanse him thoroughly.  
Naked, he pulled back the covers and laid beside Will, gathering his mate carefully into his arms, mindful of the many cuts and bruises and making certain that Will was warm and comfortable. Finally satisfied that Will was safe, Hannibal sighed and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him as well.  
*****  
He woke in the late afternoon and added a new IV bag to the line, deciding to keep Will asleep through the night and until the next day. It would give time for the wounds to start to heal, and Will would not be in such great pain. Hannibal gently brushed his fingertips along Will’s temples, checking that he was sleeping without dreams. Even after months of Hannibal providing proper nutrition and ensuring that Will rested, the profiler’s body was still recovering from the years of stress both physical and mental, and it was remarkably easy to keep Will deeply asleep.  
Hannibal dressed and checked on the dogs again, giving them some nearly unheard of afternoon treats. He even lowered himself to throw a few toys about for them, which cemented their approval of the older being. Will was their master, of course, and had their complete loyalty and devotion, but Hannibal had proved himself to be worthy of second in ranking in terms of their attention. Hannibal dryly mussed that he should be flattered.  
After fixing a meal for himself, Hannibal started a soup stock; something light on the stomach but still very nutritious that Will could have the next day. It was important to ensure that Will and the child now had the finest of food. He went through his rolodex, and made a mental appointment to go hunting to keep the larder stocked.  
After some internal debate, he decided upon a particularly annoying local community watch guard, who had appointed themselves Lord High Commander of all that went on in the neighborhood. Since this person had also at least two (that Hannibal knew of) mistresses, and the legal wife was quite aware of the ‘arrangement’, the warden would not be missed for some time - most would assume he was off with one of his amours – and it would never be marked as one of the Ripper’s kills. Hannibal had made a difficult but determined decision to no longer display his kills; Will did not need any added cases. All of Lecter’s kills (and there had be many) were now classified as missing and in no way connected to the Chesapeake Ripper.  
Ah, the things that one did for love. But it did also encourage Hannibal to use every bit of the victim, and not let anything go to waste.  
His schedule for the next few days set, Hannibal returned to the bedroom to check on his young mate. He was pleased to see that many of the cuts and bites were indeed already healing, and thanked whatever unique combination of ancestry that had given Will his gifts. Still, it was best to keep him asleep until the next day. Will would still be sore in many areas, but Hannibal weighed that against the teacher’s anticipated anger at realizing he had been kept asleep, and decided that Will would far rather be allowed to awake.  
Hannibal ran a warm bath, then stripped and carried Will to the tub, balancing the younger being easily as he settled into the tub, holding Will in front of him, his back pressed safely against Hannibal’s chest, head resting on the demon’s shoulder. The huge tub was deep enough that Will almost floated, and Hannibal had to smile. Slowly, Hannibal bathed them both, enjoying the quiet time of just holding his new mate, feasting his eyes on the slim body that Will preferred to hide under horrible clothing.  
Closing his eyes, Hannibal laid both his hands on Will’s stomach and concentrated. It was barely perceptible, on the very edge of even Hannibal’s senses, but….yes. There was just the tiniest flicker of a presence forming, growing stronger each hour. Hannibal kissed Will’s temple, rejoicing that soon they would have a new member of their family.  
When the water began to cool, Hannibal took them from the tub, lying Will on a blanket of soft towels, and carefully drying him before checking all the bruises and cuts, applying ointment and fresh bandages where necessary. Then he reluctantly dressed Will in silk pajama bottoms, knowing that the teacher would be embarrassed – and livid - if he awoke nude, and took him back to bed.  
Hannibal decided to run one more IV bag of fluids and nutrients for his mate, and then set about taking care of Will’s rather ragged finger and toe nails, making a note to take Will to his manicurist soon. He idly toyed with taking advantage of the rare opportunity of a docile Will to shave his beard, or at least trim it decently, but decided that was a liberty too far. And truthfully, Will was beautiful even with the scruff; in fact, it was part of his charm for Hannibal.  
Satisfied that he had done all the grooming that Will would currently allow, Hannibal went back downstairs to feed the dogs their evening meal, and tidy the kitchen. The soup stock was carefully finished and stored so all it would need was re-heating, and Hannibal made some meal plans for the coming days while he ate a light dinner. After enjoying a glass of wine, he checked on the dogs for a final time, and then went to bed, again gathering Will against him protectively.  
The next morning Hannibal removed the IV line after assuring himself that Will was comfortable and compelled his young mate to awaken when he was ready. He fed the dogs and then spent a few hours catching up on some house chores and his journals.  
It was late morning when Hannibal tiled his head, alerted to a soft sound. Will was awake, and from the sounds of it, was getting out of bed. Hannibal shook his head as he made his way upstairs. His mate should not be out of bed yet, he should still be resting, but Will was so stubborn. Hannibal would get him back to bed immediately; tucked in and comfortable. Will needed to be pampered and comforted; he would no doubt be confused and frightened.  
Hannibal had hoped to be there when the young one awoke, but perhaps it was good that Will had been given a bit of time to himself. He liked to be independent, after all. But now it was time for Hannibal to be there and take care of him. Will was fragile, and would need his support and comfort.  
*****  
Three minutes later, Hannibal was leaning against the bed, wheezing, trying to regain his breath, hands crossed protectively in front of himself. He wanted to check his jaw, fairly certain that at least one tooth was loose, but was afraid to uncover his more vulnerable parts. Will had slammed the bathroom door shut, but he could come out again any minute, ready for another punch or kick. Hannibal was not taking any chances.  
He waited a considerable length of time, but Will didn’t come out of the bathroom. There was nowhere for the younger man to have gone, which meant he was most likely curled up on the bathroom floor. He couldn’t leave Will to suffer in that manner; his mate would be terribly uncomfortable in such a position. He knocked hesitantly, concerned at what reaction his presence might gain from the empath.  
“Will? May I come in?”  
His answer was a shampoo bottle flying at his head, and he quickly closed the door again. That had been his favorite shampoo, and he knew it was lost as it thudded against the wall. Going to Will again would only result in more of the same, so Hannibal retreated downstairs. He would give Will more time to calm down before attempting to move him again.  
When an hour passed and he still heard no movement upstairs, Hannibal sighed. He knew that Will would be confused, and scared, and it was quite probable that his reaction was deserved, but his mate was only harming himself further. Until Will allowed himself to rest and heal, and see that he was perfectly safe, he would continue to stress himself unnecessarily. Perhaps it was time to call in reinforcements.   
“Who would like to see Will?”  
The dogs ambled over to him the moment he stepped outside, looking for more treats. Who would be the most soothing companion for Will? Certainly not the small one, who was attempting to climb him as she demanded her share of attention. She might climb all over Will and aggravate his still healing injuries. No, Hannibal would not take her to Will. Not yet at least.   
“Winston.”  
The brown mutt looked up expectantly as his name was called. Will was almost overly fond of Winston. Yes, Winston would do nicely. Hannibal managed to shoo the other dogs away as he allowed Winston inside the house for the first time. The dog obediently followed him up the stairs. Hannibal cringed at just the thought of the dog in his bedroom and bathroom, but swallowed down his distaste. Will needed the comfort that Winston would bring; comfort he would not currently allow Hannibal to provide. Resolved, Hannibal knocked on the bathroom door again.  
“Will? I am going to open the door, but I will not be coming in. Please do not throw anything; it might hurt the dog.”  
He pushed the door open enough for Winston to stick his nose in, and when no more bottles were forthcoming, he pushed it open to allow the dog entrance. Winston was eager to see his person again, almost knocking the demon over when he didn’t get out of the way quickly enough. As soon as he saw Will and Winston reunited, he closed the door again to give his beloved more privacy.  
He allowed a few more minutes to pass before cautiously opening the door again. This time, nothing flew at him. He carefully picked up a much more pliant Will, who just accused his dog of accepting bribes, and returned him to the bed. He reassured Will that Winston would be allowed to stay with him, as he very much doubted his own company would be welcomed. It was painful to acknowledge, but given Will’s earlier behavior it was expected, so he tried not to let hit hurt too much.  
It was gratifying that he could get Will to accept some tea before he left the younger man to sleep again. Sleep was the best thing for his mate now, it would allow his healing to continue unimpeded. Once he was satisfied that Will was resting comfortably, Hannibal returned to the kitchen. He had things to do while Will still slept. Hopefully Will would sleep for several hours, but once he woke, he would be hungry, and he needed to finish the soup he’d begun the day before. A thought occurred to him, and he reached for the cordless phone. There was something else he needed to do. Will was in no shape to teach his classes tomorrow.  
“Hello?”  
“Hello, Alana.”   
“Hannibal? Is everything alright?”  
“I’m afraid that it isn’t. Will has managed to contract a rather nasty virus, and I’m afraid he won’t be able to teach tomorrow. Possibly not for a few days. I hate to impose, but---”  
“Of course, Hannibal. I’d be happy to cover for Will until he’s better.”  
Hannibal smiled. He genuinely liked Alana, but it was almost too easy to persuade her to do things. Mention someone she cared for and a few words about illness, and she was all too ready to commit to something. It was what made her a truly decent human being. And speaking of people she cared for…..he recognized that voice in the background.  
“Thank you so much Alana. Do make sure to give Margot my best.”  
“Wha—how--?”  
He ended the call before she could decide which question she wanted to ask, his mind only half focused on the soup he was preparing. The idea of Margot Verger and Alana Bloom as a pair was unexpected, but as he mulled the idea over, he found it to be a pleasant surprise. It settled the question of what to do about Alana’s not-entirely-professional interest in Will (she’d done a good job of smothering it once Will was publicly accepted as his partner, but it was still there). Margot had been through much in having Mason for a brother (and that was one human who deserved death, though he would never merit a place on Hannibal’s table), and Hannibal thought the poor young woman deserved some real happiness in her life. As humans went, she wasn’t so bad. Alana was a good counterpoint to her. Those two women really were well suited for each other, and he found himself hoping that they made a success of their relationship.


	9. Chapter 9

Hannibal would never say it aloud, but watching Will grow with his child was one of the greatest pleasures in his long existence. He did feel truly bad for Will, when he could no longer tolerate coffee, and when his mate could no longer fit into his regular clothes, but watching the younger being’s body change was fascinating, and he had no doubt that Will would eventually be able to return to his caffeine addiction.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around a pregnancy of an Other. 

The changes were subtle, at first.   A brightening of the complexion, a more vivid hue to the eyes.  The slightest loss of definition in the abdomen.  As time progressed the changes had of course become more pronounced, but apart from the expanding stomach there was nothing that would give any human cause for alarm if they were to see him.   He remembered Will’s almost immediate concern that he might develop a woman’s breasts, and the thought had both amused and horrified him.  The idea of Jack seeing a pregnant Will, complete with breasts, and watching him try to comprehend what he was seeing was nothing short of hilarious.  The idea of Will changing so much was entirely unpleasant.  Hannibal held nothing but respect for the way a woman’s body worked, and the things it could accomplish; he considered women quite remarkable, and lovely, but if he’d wanted a woman he would have chosen one.  He wanted Will, as he was.

It was a pleasure to see Will dressed in the things Hannibal had procured from his tailor. The plaid shirts still made their appearances in the first few months, but eventually even they became uncomfortably tight.  Will’s announcement that he wanted sweats when he was confined to the house had earned a grimace, but he would comply with his mate’s wishes.  It was only fair to allow Will to be comfortable in his seclusion.  He was confident that his tailor could create something that would satisfy them both.

The nightmares Will suffered, that their child would tear its way out of him, still surfaced, but as the pregnancy progressed those occurrences were rare. Hannibal did everything possible to reassure his beloved that everyone would be fine.  Their child would be perfect, and would look perfectly human, complete with Will’s curls.  It would only be half of Hannibal’s kind, after all.  He was unsure whether the child would even have another form as he did.  It would certainly not deliver itself from his mother’s body.  Will watched too many Alien movies.

Soon, Will’s condition would show too visibly for him to continue to work. Hannibal knew that this period was what Will dreaded most of all, and he enlisted Celine’s help to create a space for the empath to retreat to.  Will could not be expected to be satisfied with only his dogs’ company and teaching via skype for the next several months.

He decided to theme it around fish, and fishing, since that was Will’s favorite activity. It would be nearly the only thing that Will would be able to do outside of the house for some time.  The house in Wolf Trap was remote enough that Will should be free to move about; there was little risk that he would run into anyone while out in his stream.

Celine was enthusiastic about helping to set up the new room. Hannibal tried not to take it personally that her enthusiasm was more about seeing the dogs again than about him. He considered whisking Will away to Wolf Trap for a weekend and leaving the dogs with Celine, but ultimately decided that Will wouldn’t thank him for it. He did do his best to encourage Will to befriend Celine.  She was someone who could keep him company during his seclusion.  If nothing else, they could bond over the dogs.  

Will still worried that he would be a good father. Hannibal had no concerns on that score.  He’d seen Will with his pack.  He was an excellent caretaker of those that mattered to him; it was part of why Hannibal had chosen him. He wanted more than just a surrogate or an incubator, he wanted a family, and Will fulfilled all of that.   The empath already cared for the child, and had ever since it was conceived.  He might not say so aloud, but he wasn’t the only one who could read people. 

“Hannibal, I’m so sorry I’m late. I had an emergency meeting.  I tried to call and let you know, but I couldn’t get a signal.”

Hannibal looked up from his glass of wine at Alana’s breathless explanation. He’d barely noticed that she was, in fact, nearly forty minutes late.   He’d pushed it to the back of his mind as he began to plan for Will’s new room.

“It is forgiven, Alana. I trust that everything went well?”

“It could have gone better. A patient had a relapse, but lunch is not the place to discuss it.  I’m starving.”

“Of course.”

He signaled the server over, and after briefly perusing the menu they placed orders and were left to themselves.

“How’s Margot?” Hannibal asked curiously as Alana sipped from her glass of water.  He knew, of course, since Margot still attended sessions with him, but he was curious how Alana viewed the situation between brother and sister.  He was subtly encouraging Margot to seize her own fate and free herself of Mason, but he would count it a true success if he could persuade Alana of the virtue of such a course. 

“Trapped. Mason is a monster, but he’s the heir. Margot can never inherit the estate, so Mason has a captive audience.”

“Ah, yes. The Verger heir must be a male.”

“And a Verger by blood. Which leaves Mason as the ruler of the roost.”

“But he could be deposed. A son of Margot’s would be a Verger.”

He’d advised Margot of the same things before, but she was always unwilling to consider it. If Mason believed that she was attempting to escape his control, he would make sure she could never try it again.  Considering what he knew of Mason’s abuse of his sister, Hannibal was honestly surprised the man hadn’t already seen to it that his sister couldn’t have children.  It would certainly make his molestation more convenient, knowing that no inbred offspring would result.  Then again, Margot was now too old for Mason’s tastes.  As a soon-to-be father, Hannibal thought that Mason’s end couldn’t come fast enough.  Perhaps he would do it himself, if only to ensure that his son never encountered the man.

Alana’s look at his suggestion was thoughtful, and it occurred to Hannibal that perhaps there was another option. A son of Mason’s would be a Verger as well.  If Margot wasn’t strong enough to walk away from being a Verger, or to become pregnant and murder her brother, well, there was nothing to prevent Alana from carrying a child sired by Mason.   The idea of Alana copulating with Mason Verger was repugnant, but that mightn’t be required.  His sperm was all that was truly necessary for a skilled fertilization specialist to produce children, assuming that Alana was fertile. 

“And of course, Mason could still father children.”

Hannibal never could resist a bit of manipulation to achieve a truly worthy goal.

“God forbid.”

“God forbid that Mason should have the raising of a child. But of course, if something happened to Mason, Margot would be the natural choice to raise his son.”

“The boy’s mother would be the natural choice to raise him.”

“But if the mother wasn’t in the picture? A surrogate would be easy enough to procure, and they would have no legal claim to the child with the correct paperwork. Or if she was someone close to Margot…..she does have a predilection for feminine company, after all.”

That was enough, he decided. If Alana felt he was attempting to push her, she would dig in her heels, but if she was allowed to believe it was her decision, she was far more likely to be cooperative. When she changed the subject to Will, and his upcoming trip to Europe to adopt their child, he dove eagerly into the new conversation.

“I still can’t imagine the two of you raising a child.”

“You doubt our abilities?”

“Absolutely.”

It was said with a brilliant smile, so Hannibal knew that she was joking. He could forgive that, so long as Will never heard her.  His own doubts were enough to deal with.  It was interesting to learn that Alana had the same thoughts, at almost the same moment.

“Of course I don’t doubt your abilities. But I doubt Will’s faith in himself as a parent.  I’m sure that you’re just as aware that Will didn’t exactly have the best role models for that position.  He doesn’t trust himself to be a better parent than his own were.”

“Perhaps not. But I have every confidence that once he settles into the role of father, he will excel at it.”

Alana nodded her agreement with the sentiment, but still cautioned him.

“Just be careful, Hannibal, that you’re not pushing too much on Will too soon. I’m sure he’ll settle in, but I doubt it will be at your pace.  Don’t expect more than he can give, before he’s able to give it.”

X--------X-----X--------------X----------X

“Is everything ready?”

Hannibal had rearranged his schedule for the day so that he could put the final touches on the room.  Will would be home any minute, so everything had to be finished.  Knowing that it would be his last day at work had put the empath in a foul mood, and Hannibal wanted everything perfect to help alleviate his mate’s stress.  He was taking Will for a long weekend to the house in Wolf Trap, and when they came back on Monday, he would begin his confinement.  Hannibal wanted the new room to be ready to show Will as soon as they returned. Weeks of planning and execution had resulted in a room that he was sure Will would be satisfied with, once it was complete.  Only a  few items remained to be handled, and Celine could take care of them over the weekend.

Celine just rolled her eyes at him before telling him to stuff it.   That woman got away with far more than any of his other acquaintances could possibly hope. The sound of the garage door opening told Hannibal that they were out of time.  Minutes later Will could be heard greeting his pack as they met him at the door.  Hannibal used his distraction to take the suitcases out to the Bentley.  Will didn’t know about this excursion, but it was necessary.  It would be their last opportunity to be completely alone before the birth of their son.  Celine’s schedule would prevent her from being free to look after the dogs again until after the delivery.  Will needed a weekend with no responsibilities, before the weight of responsibility for a new life set in for good.

“What is this?”

“A weekend execursion. Into the car with you, Will.”

After an hour’s drive, he could see Will visibly relax as he pulled the Bentley into the driveway. The house stood sentinel in the middle of nowhere, the best place that Will could have made for himself when he was alone.  It would be little more than an empty shell now that Will was permanently moving to the city; their private cabin in the woods.  Hannibal was sure that as their child grew up, he would love coming out here for weekends.  Learning to fish in the river with Will, learning to hunt, if he possessed that instinct, from Hannibal. 

“I could’ve brought the dogs.”

“I am selfish enough to want you all to myself this weekend, as it will be our last such for quite some time. Celine will take good care of them, as you are aware.”

“I’m aware. They mope for days when she’s gone.”

Hannibal hid his smile at Will’s grumbling. It was a fact that the dogs had grown quite attached to Celine, and after she stayed with them, it took at least a day for them to settle back down with just their master.  He said nothing in response, choosing discretion as the better part of valor, and followed Will into the house.

 

While Will headed for his dressers and the horrendous clothes Hannibal wished to find a way to discard, he headed for the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. He was so pleased that Will’s painfully inadequate kitchen would become more of a rarity.  It was almost painful to prepare a meal in the space.  It was no wonder that Will fed himself so poorly before Hannibal found him.  It was nearly impossible to prepare suitable food in this place.

“Stop glaring at my kitchen as though it’s done something to personally offend you!” he heard Will call from the other room. It sounded as though the empath was in the middle of changing his clothing, judging from the muffled noises Hannibal could hear. 

“This kitchen’s very existence offends me, Will!” he called back. It was so rare that Will exhibited anything like humor that he simply had to respond in kind. Tonight he was preparing a roast, courtesy of a rather accommodating banker who’d assaulted and attempted to murder a young woman who’d come to him for a mortgage.  Research into the man’s habits, after a lapse of unforgivable rudeness prompted Hannibal’s interest, revealed a string of dead women in the various cities he’d lived in, all customers of the very banks he’d worked in.  He was able to keep his promise to Will, to only kill those who took the lives of others. 

It was a disappointment that Will didn’t join him in the kitchen as he cooked, but when in his own home the younger being tended to keep to his own devices. Instead it sounded as though Will had begun to sort through the things he would take with him, now that he was moving to Baltimore permanently. He’d seemed to decide that under his roof, it wasn’t necessary to be as accommodating of his mate as he otherwise would be. 

Such was one of the things that Hannibal had worked to let go.   He knew that it was still difficult for Will, accepting their life, and coming child.  On the whole, Will was cooperative, knowing that he didn’t have a choice to be anything else, but there were occasions, especially in the small details, where he continued to rebel.  Hannibal had seen Winston threateningly raise his leg on the tires of the Bentley, and Will had simply smiled.  He also still stole the crossword puzzles from the papers, using pen so that Hannibal had no opportunity to erase it and do it himself, and purposely drank all of the available coffee so that Hannibal was without (at least until the morning sickness began). He seized any opportunity to launch his miniature rebellions.   The empath also withheld any attempt at physical affection beyond the odd embrace, or chaste kiss.  He seemed determined to hold himself aloof from any attempt to create a true relationship, and Hannibal was fairly certain that he did it simply out of spite.  

It was interesting, however, that Will seemed determined not to hate the child he carried, despite his anger at Hannibal. He couldn’t detect even the slightest resentment towards their son any longer.  That discovery was heartening; if Will could accept and welcome this child, perhaps in the future he might be willing to welcome more.  Hannibal would be delighted at the opportunity to have a daughter as well. 

It was a pleasant way to wile away the evening, sitting on the porch and watching the sun set. With the kitchen cleaned of dinner and the dough already rising for the morning’s cinnamon rolls, Hannibal found himself with little do apart from watching Will.  It brought to mind the previous centuries, before the invention of modern conveniences such as telephones and televisions.  He very much disapproved of this swifter pace of life, where moments that should be treasured simply passed by as people hurried to and fro.  Perhaps, in a way, being one of the last of his kind was a blessing;  his family could never have adapted to the speed of this lifetime.  Mischa wouldn’t have survived having to adapt so quickly, but Will?  Will would thrive.  This was the only life he’d ever known, so it would be little trouble to help him adapt to the future.  And their son would be even more resilient, because they would teach him to be so.

“You’re staring.”

“I suppose I am,” he agreed.

“Any particular reason?”

“Contemplating mortality, I suppose.”

The statement garnered a swift reaction from Will, who looked at him with no small amount of incredulity.

“Is it truly so strange that I should think of such a thing, when our child grows inside you?”

“I wouldn’t think you really had to worry about mortality.”

Hannibal snorted softly at that, and concealed his smile behind his coffee mug as he directed his gaze back out to the woods. The nocturnal animals were beginning to wake, giving the woods a different sound, as others settled in for the night. 

“We are particularly long-lived, Will, but we are still mortal. Eventually, we will die.”

“Give or take a few hundred years.”

“There is that.”

Those long years no longer loomed over him, as something simply to be endured. Will would not live as long as he; the empath was a different type of being, and his lifespan was not the same, but he would have Will with him for many years to come. And they would have their son, and perhaps even in his old age there would be grandchildren.  The future was no longer something he would be required to face alone, and that was a comforting thought.  He hadn’t considered how very isolated his existence was until he’d first felt Will, and laid his plans to take a mate.

When Will snorted softly, Hannibal turned to watch him. Something had amused the empath, judging from his expression. 

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Will.”

“If demons are as long-lived as you say, I’ve probably got half a dozen cousins running around as screwed up as I am. I’m just wondering if any of them have ever had to put up with Freddie Lounds or Frederick Chilton, and what they’d do if they did.”

“You’re not ‘screwed up’ Will,” Hannibal stated, nearly exasperated with Will’s tendency for self-deprecation, “you’re merely a different being than you believed yourself to be.  As for any relations of yours, I doubt that they would have the patience you have with those pests.”

“Says the man who reads Tattlecrime as soon as he wakes up in the morning."

                                               

                                                H-----------------------------------------------H

 

He did wish that Will would allow him to reveal the sex of their child. Not being able to finish the nursery was beginning to drive him up the wall.   Nearly everything was ready, but there were final touches that he simply could not place because Will insisted on not knowing whether he carried a son or daughter.  Hannibal had hinted that knowing ahead of time would be a good idea, but Will didn’t take those hints.  The fact that the empath insisted that there were too few good, true surprises in the world had communicated quite clearly that he didn’t want to know, so everything Hannibal purchased for their son either had to be carefully hidden away until after the birth, or a shade that was considered neutral, so as not to give anything away. 

Although, perhaps Will simply didn’t understand that Hannibal was hinting that he could, in fact, tell their child’s sex, and believed that they would just have to wait until the birth.   Hannibal might have to bring up the subject again when Will was further along, and be more concise in his meaning. Yes, he would wait until Will had reached the point in his pregnancy when an ultrasound would be able to read a child’s sex.  By then Will might be better disposed to knowing, so that he could be better prepared.

The room that he’d prepared for Will had been perfect. Hannibal had returned home from work the first day of Will’s confinement, and had barely been able to drag the younger man out even to eat.   It happened the next day, and the days following.  Perhaps he’d done his job too well:   he’d meant to provide Will something to occupy his time that he would enjoy, but he’d never meant to encourage his mate to spend more time away from him.  Was he truly—yes, he was jealous of a room.  How demeaning. 

“I think…maybe….that the baby is kicking,” Will ventured cautiously, and Hannibal looked up from his book to see the empath watching him, lip bitten in uncertainty.

“It is very likely,” he replied, sounding very interested. “The child is developed enough now for movement.” He tilted his head in question. “Does it hurt at all?”

“No, just….very strange.” Will shifted his weight, trying to find a comfortable position, but the child seemed determine to keep his attention. “I hope this doesn’t happen constantly for the next few months.”

A small smile graced Hannibal’s face. “Perhaps the child has your impatience,” he remarked lightly.

“Wonderful,” Will muttered. The kicks were now centered in one location and Will rested his hand on his abused stomach. “We’re all doomed if it has both my temper and yours.”

Hannibal chucked, and something in his face – a clear longing - made Will pause and consider.

“Would you like to….feel….it?”

Dark eyes widened a bit in surprise at the offer. Hannibal had been very careful to not touch Will expect for occasional light touches to his arm or back for guidance, and holding him at night, because Will resisted any hint of anything more. Now his mate was offering to allow him to touch, to feel their child’s movements.

“I would like that very much,” Hannibal said carefully, “If you are comfortable with it.”

Will nodded, not quite able to meet Hannibal’s gaze. “It’s your child,” he muttered faintly. “Seems only right.”

“ _Our_ child,” Hannibal gently corrected, but he left his chair to kneel beside Will’s and held out one large hand. “Why don’t you take my hand, and place it in the correct location?” he suggested.

Will nodded, and took the hand, idly noticing how warm it was, and rested the joined hands on his distended stomach where the kicks were currently located. There was a pause, and then as if on cue, a strong kick.

Hannibal’s eyes lit up immediately. “That is amazing,” he said quietly. He pressed his hand a little firmer, and Will didn’t object in the slightest. They sat quietly for a few minutes until the kicks faded away, the child apparently going back to rest.

“Thank you, Will.”

He would continue to think about what he felt until he noticed Will’s exhaustion, and he urged the empath to bed for the evening. He had a feeling that he would end up putting Will on bedrest before the pregnancy reached its conclusion. That would almost certainly not go over well. Still, he almost considered it fair turnabout for Will sending him through fast food drive-thru’s for things that he couldn’t bring himself to call food. Or for cookies that came from a store, that absolutely paled in comparison to the treats that Hannibal could prepare himself. He was almost certain that Will did this to spite him as well.

He was just getting ready for bed himself when his phone rang.   He glanced to see if Will had woken, but his mate was still sleeping soundly. Hannibal quickly grabbed the handset as it rang a second time, silently vowing that whoever was on the other end would pay if they managed to disturb Will. Calling so late was the height of rudeness, so it had best be an emergency.

He was shocked to hear Alana’s voice on the other end, sounding nearly desperate, but a delighted smile crept over his face as she explained the situation. So, Margot had finally taken the initiative to get rid of Mason. How absolutely wonderful.   He was already reaching for his just discarded slacks, and slipped them back on.

“Of course I’ll come. I’m leaving now.”

He wouldn’t bother with anything more complicated than a sweater.   He placed a soft kiss against the sleeping empath’s temple, compelling him to remain in the sleep he needed while Hannibal was gone. It would not do for Will to awaken and discover himself alone. He saw some of the dogs rouse themselves in the back yard as they saw him pass through the house, but they quickly settled down when they realized it was him, and he was able to leave silently.

The drive out to Muskrat Farm was made as quickly as possible, and he arrived to find Alana waiting for him at the front door. She quickly led him around to the back, and he smiled to himself at being snuck inside. Alana led him up the stairs to a wing that appeared to be little-used, and into a room where Margot stood, a fireplace poker in her hand. Mason lay on the floor, unmoving but breathing. What drew Hannibal’s attention was not the sight of his patient apparently waiting to murder her brother, but a pig, sedated and hooked up to an ultrasound machine.   Inside the animal was a fetus; a human fetus, even though it looked more like a tadpole or an alien. Hannibal immediately understood what had driven Margot. After Mason had removed her reproductive organs, he had apparently implanted enough of them inside this poor dumb animal to try to turn her into the incubator for Margot’s child. The truly disturbing question was who had supplied the other half of the genetic material needed to create this baby?

“You said that Mason could father a child without needing to—“

Ah.   He’d rather suspected that he’d been called for something other than prostate milking, but he was flexible.   This would be thoroughly unpleasant for him, being so intimately connected with Mason Verger, but, well: the things one did for one’s friends.


	10. Chapter 10

It would not be much longer, Hannibal surmised as he watched Will. Perhaps a few more days, and they would have their child. He continued to massage Will’s feet, the empath dozing off from the repetitive motion, as he mentally began running through everything they would need for the delivery.  The surgical suite was already set up, and fully stocked.  The only thing missing was a reserve of blood for Will, just in case there were any unforeseen complications. Hannibal was confident that there would be none, but it was always best to be prepared for any possible contingency.  That had to be as fresh as possible, so it would wait until the day of the delivery.  Celine would bring it.   And if, as Hannibal suspected, it was not necessary, then it would be used to feed the infant.

Will had remained stubbornly immovable on the subject of the child’s sex.  Hannibal wanted nothing more than to be done with the nursery before it was needed, so he’d taken last night to move some of the final touches in, and he would finish it tonight after Will was sleeping.  Will was avoiding the nursery, so finishing it wouldn’t ruin the surprise. 

To be fair, Will was avoiding many rooms in the house.  These last days had been spent in his craft room, or the study.  Hannibal could admit that he had not anticipated the pregnancy tiring Will to the point that it did. Knowing that Will was perfectly healthy was the only reason that the doctor hadn’t confined his mate to complete bedrest. Simply going outside to take care of his dogs was enough to tire him out. Hannibal had taken to following after Will, to clean up any messes his mate may have missed, and make sure the dogs didn’t damage him in their enthusiasm.

 That worry, at least, had been put to rest quickly.  The dogs had recognized that their master wasn’t completely well, and worried over him as if he was a new puppy.  Winston seemed to place the blame for Will’s situation squarely on Hannibal’s shoulders, judging by the canine’s treatment of the demon. Hannibal had barely managed to avoid being bitten one afternoon when Will had sagged to a chair and nearly missed it.

“Come Will.  It is time for bed.”

Hannibal lifted the sleepy man easily, and carried him upstairs.  Will might feel that he’d grown to the size of a beached whale, but the little weight that he’d actually gained made no difference in Hannibal’s ability to transport him.    A demon used to carrying dead bodies found no challenge in a sleeping pregnant man.  They were up the stairs and in their bedroom before Will could truly understand that he was no longer in the study.

Hannibal urged Will to stay in his not-awake state as he readied the younger man for bed.  He was perfectly capable of changing Will out of the atrocious sweat pants and into more comfortable sleep pants.  He did not trust Will’s protests that the sweats weren’t too hot, not when he would frequently push the bedding off if he slept in them.  It was most pleasant to have Will so close to him during this task, completely unguarded.

 It was almost equally pleasant to not have to go to work in the morning.   He’d grown spoiled the last weeks, not having to deal with patients.  He was tempted to simply not go back to practicing after their son was born.  That thought was only a fleeting one.  He would grow too bored with nothing to do.  And Will would likely eject him from his own house, if he took up hunting again to stave off the boredom.  Perhaps it was time to consider a new profession, if this one was beginning to bore him.  He’d been a doctor for quite some time, in one field or another. It was something to think about.

Once he had Will comfortably in bed, he spent the briefest time possible on his own bedtime preparations.   Will wasn’t the only one in need of rest.  Though Hannibal wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, it was physically tiring to care for his mate all day. Hannibal was unused to such continued physical exertions.   He swam for exercise, and he hunted when he needed, and those activities kept him in good condition, but those were not daily occurrences.  He was used to having rest between times.   He would admit that the activity did seem to help him sleep much better, though, so it was of some benefit.

Will didn’t stir when Hannibal slipped into bed beside him, and Hannibal pulled him close.   So very soon, they would be three instead of two.  There would be sleepless nights, and the never ending demands of a child to deal with, but they were ready.  Will especially was anxious to have it over so that he could come out of seclusion.  Hannibal was also looking forward to no longer hiding in the house.  The true downside to having to conceal Will’s pregnancy was that all of his colleagues and acquaintances believed they were in Europe, so they couldn’t be seen around the city. 

At least they would officially “return” before Alana’s pregnancy came to an end.  Hannibal was following that development eagerly. He’d been curious whether Margot’s gamble would work, since she was risking everything on her girlfriend getting pregnant.  He was pleased that they were successful.  Margot would surely be a better administrator than Mason ever was, and with Alana as parent to the child, it would not become another Mason.

Hannibal woke in the early hours of the morning, aware that something had changed.  He looked over to Will, who was still sleeping soundly.  It was not his mate who woke him.  His hand drifted from Will’s face down to his distended stomach, and his breath hitched.  It was not Will who woke him, but their son.  His calculations were incorrect.  The child would not be born in a few days; he was ready to come out today.

Hannibal rolled over and picked up the cordless phone, punching in Celine’s number as he did so.  Her sleepy questioning of who the hell was calling at this godforsaken hour was answered with a curt “Bring the blood today” before he hung up.  He had too much to do before he was ready to deliver their child to worry about hurt feelings.  He would allow Will to continue to sleep as he prepared the surgical suite and made sure that everything was sanitized and prepared.  There was no reason to wake the younger man yet.  Waking Will would only make him anxious, and he needed to be calm.  Hannibal wanted no complications in this surgery.

It was calming to prepare the suite: hooking up the heart monitor, covering the operating table, and sterilizing all of the instruments provided a routine that he could lose himself in, as he once did when he was still a practicing surgeon.  It was a much different feeling than when he hunted.  Hunting was about providing food, and satisfying his natural instincts.  Surgery was fighting God himself, and when he won it was the most satisfying feeling in the world.  

His surgical mask and gown were waiting for him, along with matching attire for Celine, as she would be assisting him.  As the instruments sterilized, he pulled out a length of plastic sheeting and arranged it under the operating table.   Once the child was delivered, he wouldn’t want to waste time getting blood out of the floor, not when the plastic could contain all of the mess and be easily disposed of.

The surgical suite completed, Hannibal chose to use the remaining time to finish the nursery.   Perhaps it was good that he’d neglected to complete that chore before joining Will in bed; it gave him something else to occupy his time.  It would be at least another two hours before Celine arrived to assist him.  She viewed his impending child with interest, but she didn’t hold the same reverence for the event that he did.  She would willingly assist him, but only a direct threat to Will’s life would compel her to abandon her sleep (and her bed partner) to do so. She would come only after she chose to get up for the day, and then only after she made her trip to the blood bank.     

The blanket that Alana knit was laid carefully across the rocking chair.   The teddy bear that Beverly had given Will before he took his leave was placed in the crib for the moment, but Hannibal doubted it would stay there long.  Will would look for it as soon as he remembered it.  The blues and greens of the items that Hannibal placed out fit in well with the scheme that the designers had come up with, and he was pleased that he’d brought them in despite Will’s teasing.  This room was to be their son’s room for many years.  It must be perfect. 

He was at the door, his hand on the light switch, when he saw something out of place and froze.  On top of the dresser sat a stuffed animal he’d never seen before, and a small round metal base of some sort.   He knew that it was nothing Will had placed, as Will hadn’t set foot in the nursery in over a month, and Hannibal was certain he would have noticed it before now. Even if Will had obtained a stuffed animal of his own, Hannibal highly doubted that it would be a baby Chewbacca.  It was far more likely to be a stuffed dog.  

Now that his attention had been grabbed,  Hannibal looked around the room and found other items that he knew he had not placed.  Peeking out from under the crib he found a wampa rug, and hidden in a corner of the crib, under another pillow, was a Baby Yoda print pillow.   Hannibal shook his head at the atrocity.  It could only be Celine. Somehow she’d come in complete secrecy and placed her own garish contributions in the nursery.    Where did she even find these things?  They would have to have a serious discussion.  He was absolutely not raising a Star Wars fanatic.    It was with no small amount of trepidation that he touched the button on the metal base and the room was filled with the glow of a Death Star LED light.  Hannibal shook his head as he turned the light off and closed the nursery door.  If Will ever saw that light, Hannibal knew he would be forced to live with it.

When the knock on the door came, Hannibal roused himself from the study and answered it.  Celine’s overly bright smile did not diminish his glare.   The woman had put Star Wars items in his designer nursery.  She deserved far worse than a harsh facial expression.

“You’re late.”

“I’m not.  I’m here exactly when I meant to be.  And you’d better be nice to me, as I bring you things you need.”

She offered up the cooler she carried, and he could smell the blood inside it.  He directed her up to the surgical suite as he prepared the tea that would put Will under for the operation.  It was time, now that he had assistance.  Once the brew was ready, he carried it up to their bedroom, surprised to find that Will had not yet woken on his own.  It only convinced him that he was correct in reading the child’s determination to arrive today. After today, Will’s body would not suffer the burden of carrying their child, and he would finally be able to regain his energy. 

“Will.”

The empath roused, only just, and looked at him as he carded a hand through unruly curls.

“I did not mean to wake you.”

“I was just being lazy.”

“I think, my love, that it is time.”

He could feel Will’s trepidation, and soothed as best as he could.  He’d given all the reassurance possible; now there was nothing left to do but deliver their son.   Will accepted the tea, pausing before putting the cup to his lips.

“I don’t want to sleep a whole day.”

“I promise you will not.  By nightfall, our child will be waiting to meet you.”

He would only keep Will asleep long enough to perform the surgery and allow his body to heal.   There would be no need to keep him unconscious as he’d done after their coupling; this wouldn’t be nearly so violent.  As soon as Will was out, Hannibal scooped him up and carried him upstairs.

Celine had everything ready when he arrived, already in a gown and mask.  She had several towels folded out beside the instruments, ready to be used to absorb the blood Will would lose.   As Hannibal slipped into his gown and mask, she lifted his nightshirt to expose his stomach, and covered it with iodine.  By the time Hannibal was ready, so was Will.  The heartbeat monitor beeped steadily, indicating he was in deep sleep.   Celine handed him the scalpel, and he very carefully made the first incision.   Blood welled up, and it was immediately wiped away.    He cut deeper, and Celine stood ready.

The procedure was delicate, because if he cut too deeply he could injure the baby or Will.  If he cut an artery Will could bleed out before he could get it under control. If he nicked the baby, as sharp as the scalpel was, well, he didn’t want to contemplate causing any sort of harm to his son, no matter how unintentional.  He’d sworn to protect both his mate and his child, and he would do so.

Hannibal was meticulous in his actions as he passed off the scalpel and accepted the next instruments.  He worked quickly, removing the baby and placenta, passing the infant off to Celine as soon as he heard the tiny wail that indicated working lungs and a clear airway.  Even though he knew the baby was perfectly healthy, he could not relax until the boy cried.  Once he heard that sound, he turned his attention to closing Will up and ensuring that everything was repaired.  Celine was perfectly competent to clean the baby up while Hannibal worked. He made the stitches tiny, so that any scarring would be minimal.  Will’s accelerated healing should take care of most of it, but there was still the possibility of minor scarring, and Hannibal wanted there to be as little as possible.  He might enjoy the sight of a scar, and what it represented, but he knew that Will wouldn’t appreciate it.

The moment he was sure that Will was resting comfortably he turned his attention to his son.  Celine had cleaned him, and cut the cord, so the infant was now swaddled in a diaper and a blanket.  The wisps of dark hair were curly, like Will’s.  Hannibal smiled at that.  He took the infant from Celine, staring at his son in awe.   This was his son.  He and Will created him, and he was perfect.

“Get ready for a lot of sleepless nights,”  Celine teased.

“Don’t press your luck.  I should destroy you for that Death Star lamp.”

“You know you love it.  Now, why don’t you get Will back in bed and comfortable, then we can get his place cleaned up.”

He hated to admit it, but she was right.  Will needed to wake back in their room, not lying on an operating table.  He allowed Celine to take the baby so that he could scoop up Will, and carried his sleeping mate out of the room.   Inside the master suite he made quick work of cleaning Will to perfection before returning him to the bed.   He placed pillows all around the empath to keep him braced and comfortable, before finally pulling the comforter up.  Once his task was complete, Hannibal took his child from Celine and dismissed her.   He could hear her in the back yard with the dogs as he settled into the rocking chair, and decided not to be angry that she was blatantly ignoring his order.  The dogs needed someone to spend time with them, and for the next few days Will would be unable to  do so. 

“I feel certain that you will be just as much of a dog person as your mother,” he said to his sleeping son, who stirred at the sound of his voice.  Newborn he might be, but their kind could recognize their parents from birth.    Since Will was a different type of Other, that bond might not be so immediate, but Hannibal knew that even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t take long. 

“He would never forgive me if he knew I said this, but we must take care of him.  He is different from us, and so struggles to understand.  You will have to be patient with him as he tries to adjust to something so foreign, but know that you are very much loved by both of us, no matter how he may behave on occasion.”

The baby didn’t have a chance of understanding the words, but Hannibal felt better for saying them.  He wasn’t deluded enough to believe that all of Will’s concerns would vanish now that their son was born, or that there wouldn’t still be plenty of adjustment ahead for all of them.  If the child did become a hunter, it would be most difficult for Will to accept. 

He lost all track of time as he rocked the baby, until the child started to cry.   The diaper didn’t need changing, and he was securely swaddled, but not restricted to the point that it would be painful.   He must be hungry.  Perhaps it was time for a bottle.  He would start with blood, as the child would need both.  Then Will would be able to feed him his formula.  He would not ask Will to do something he was so uncomfortable with.

Once he was fed, the baby calmed down, and Hannibal laid him down in the bassinet to sleep.  His attention turned to Will as he heard the empath stirring in the bed.  He sat on the edge of the bed as Will moved.

“Everything is well, my love.  Our child has been born.”

He doubted Will was truly aware of anything, as he drifted back to sleep almost immediately.  He was aware enough, however, to ask for the sex, and announce that their son must play American football. Hannibal indulged the idea; their son could very well decide that he would indeed play football. They would encourage any athletic pursuits he chose. 

Several hours later, Hannibal became aware that he was humming to an audience of more than one.  “How do you feel,” he asked as he brushed the curls from Will’s face.

“A little achy, I guess.  Can I—“

“Of course.”

He shifted the pillows and assisted Will in sitting upright, before retrieving the baby from his cradle. Will looked terrified at the prospect of handling the baby, but Hannibal gently eased Will’s arms to relax, showing him how to hold their son. “He won’t break,”  Hannibal reassured softly. Will let out a huff of laughter, trying to be comfortable.

“He’s so tiny,” he whispered, amazed. Unbidden and unaware, a few tears came to his eyes and he studied the tiny person they had created. Hannibal gently wiped the tears away with his thumb.

“Actually, he is a very normal weight and length. All babies seem so small at birth, but his lungs are quite strong, believe me.”

Will smiled, beginning to relax. “Crying and I already slept through it?” he tried to joke

 “Oh yes, and I duly noted it,” Hannibal answered, looking amused. “You are forgiven this time, however.” He pressed a kiss to Will’s head, proving he was teasing. “You needed the rest, and our son was appeased with his first bottle. He has quite the appetite already.”

Hannibal stretched out beside Will on the bed, pulling his mate and their son into his arms, and sheltering him and their son. Nothing had been more perfect in his entire life. They quietly marveled at their son for a time, simply watching him sleep, words not needed between them.

“What shall we name him?” Hannibal finally asked.

Will looked down, suddenly shy. “I do have a name in mind, if you like it, that is,” he said. Hannibal smiled, merely raising an eyebrow, waiting for Will to speak. “I think….Kaspar,” Will whispered, uncertain how Hannibal would feel about the name.

“Kaspar….” Hannibal considered it for a moment. “Persian for treasure, yes?”

Will nodded. “We will treasure him, won’t we?”

Hannibal smiled, pressing another kiss to Will’s hair. “We will indeed. It is a perfect name for him. Thank you for this treasure, William.”

More tears filled his eyes, and all Will could do was nod. Hannibal kissed them away now, and Will made no objection.

Kaspar started to stir, making a demand known, and Will froze, terrified that he had done something wrong. Hannibal just chuckled and brought over a small bottle from the reading table. Will looked at it nervously, but saw to his relief that the clear bottle was filled with normal white formula. He tried to hand the baby back to Hannibal, but the older being shook his head, lying back down with them and showing Will how to hold the bottle to feed their child. After a few minutes of loud fussing, the baby finally accepted the bottle and settled down to his serious business of eating.

Will sighed in relief, part of him proud that he was handling this so far. He looked back and forth between Hannibal and their son, nervous again, and Hannibal tilted his head in question.

“What are you thinking, my love?” Hannibal asked. Will started to shake his head, but Hannibal gently turned Will’s head to face him. “You know you can say or ask anything,” he prompted softly.

Lip bit in uncertainty, Will took a deep breath. “Will you teach him to hunt?” he asked softly. It may not have been the right time to question this already, but Will needed to know the answer. It was part of his child’s life, and from this moment on, Kaspar was Will’s priority.

Hannibal considered the question seriously, knowing what Will was asking. “It may be in his nature,” he finally cautioned. “And I cannot prevent that if it’s so. But I promise that I will not encourage it, and if the instinct does develop, I will enforce strict rules.” He touched the dark hair on the tiny head. “It will be years before we need to address that, my love. Please put your mind at ease.”

Will chewed his lip some more, and then nodded, accepting the answer. He trusted that Hannibal would do as he promised, and never let any harm come to his family. And he trusted Hannibal’s word about the _extent_ of his hunting. Will firmly put that aside for now, concentrating on their son.

He drifted off again along with the baby, and when Will next woke up Hannibal was standing by the windows, looking at something outside. Kaspar was in his cradle beside the bed, and Hannibal smiled as he handed the sleeping baby back to his younger parent.

“Will you be alright for a moment? I need to go get something.”

“Yeah,” Will decided. He was nervous, but he was already a touch more confident holding their son; at least as long as he was lying down. Hannibal chuckled quietly, and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead and then to Will’s before leaving.

Will took the opportunity to study the tiny babe again as he slept. He knew that coloring could certainly change, but Kaspar had a great amount of hair, unusual for a newborn, and so far it promised to be dark. And if he was not mistaken, it was definitely curly. Will sighed.

“I’m sorry, little man,” he told his son.

A minute later Hannibal retuned, and smiled at the sight of the two of them. “Will, I believe that you have some company.”

“What?” Will had no idea what to think. Who in Heaven’s name would Hannibal be allowing in their home now?

Before he could panic, there was the sound of paws on wood and carpet, and a moment later all seven dogs trotted into the bedroom. Will held back a snort of laughter, not wanting to wake the baby, but smiled broadly at the pack. “Seriously?” he asked in complete surprise. “You’re letting them in here?”

“I did once promise that they would be allowed in the house on special occasions,” Hannibal answered. “I cannot think of anything more special than this.” He frowned at Bella, who was looking a little too interested in the bed. “Although, only for a short time,” the demon added firmly.

Will chuckled, and gestured as best he could for the pack to come to the bedside. They gathered around curiously, sniffing their master and the strange thing in his arms. Will smiled at them, feeling proud.

“Everyone, this is Kaspar,” he said softly, making the proper introductions. “Kaspar, this is everyone.” Winston woofed once, and Will smiled. “That’s right.”

*****

A loud crying woke both men and Hannibal went to fetch the bottle after helping Will to the rocking chair that had been placed in the master suite. Will sighed as he nervously held the newborn.

“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to sooth his son. “Twelve hours old and already making demands? Is this the way it’s going to be from now on?” It might be a good thing that Will was experienced at dealing with insomnia. “Come on now, it’s alright. Food is on the way.”

Kaspar wiggled, and his eyes opened, looking for the source of the familiar voice. Dark eyes met light ones, and Will gasped. He had never seen anything so clearly, so perfectly before. Will froze, entranced at the vision, and neither he nor Kaspar broke the gaze until Hannibal lightly touched Will’s arm, bringing his mate and their son back to the present. Will looked up at Hannibal, seeing the older being kneeling beside the chair, and he smiled, tears of happiness running down his face.

Hannibal wiped the tears away, his expression intense as he looked between the man and the infant. “What have you seen, Will?” he asked quietly.

Will smiled more, and then leaned forward to kiss Hannibal. “He will be wonderful,” he breathed simply.

 


End file.
